


Here and Nowhere Else

by freezerjerky



Series: Here and Nowhere Else [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cisswap, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Genderswap, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Magic, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-29 17:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: "We've grown into what our fathers had planned for us to be and that makes it even more impossible."Forced into friendship for publicity at a young age, Merlin finds herself drawn to Arthur despite the fear of dishonoring her own father's memory. Arthur, the daughter of an unkind ruler, has her own issues to work through; seeing as the object of her affections has magic, the one thing her father hates above all else.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who reads this! This fic started as an idea because I really wanted to write a cisswap Merlin AU, and then grew from there. I went with a simpler complex: modern royalty. But that concept isn't really simple, is it? I wanted to set this story in a world that reflects our modern political climate and also the struggle that women in power often face when dealing with decades or centuries of patriarchal rule.
> 
> Please read to the bottom of chapter 1 for some notes on world building.
> 
> Many thanks to [Evi](http://eviko.tumblr.com) for being my partner through this, it was an incredible honor to work with one of my favorite fanartists on this story. Evi is a complete and utter gem and it was a pleasure to create this together. <3
> 
> Part 2 of this series is a fanmix- please feel free to give it a listen.
> 
> Yes, this fic is part of the ACBB 2017- please give some of the other great fics in this Big Bang a read!
> 
> No major warnings in this piece: just a head's up that there's allusions to acts of terrorism in two chapters and a character in minor distress. All of these are marked in their respective chapters.

**Eight**

Merlin only has the faintest memories of her father. She remembers that he always smelled a bit like wood shavings and that he had a beard that tickled whenever he kissed her cheek. She also remembers how he'd make her mother laugh and how safe she'd feel tucked between them on nights that she had bad dreams.

There are things she'd prefer not to remember, too. The night he was taken away is firmly stamped in her memory; her mother reasoning with the police and his calmness as he kissed them both goodbye. The ensuing months of visiting him and being separated by a thick pane of glass. She'd beg him to conjure her up some treat, the vision of a dragon floating in the air or a floating butterfly, but he'd never comply. The sadness in his eyes was something that no child should have to see, but Merlin only fully grew to understand the meaning as the look became just a memory.

The one thing Merlin remembers clear as day is that cold autumn day sitting in the kitchen when her mother told her that her father would not be coming home. Merlin was only six years old when her father was executed by the king for a crime that he didn't commit.

Balinor was a low ranking politician who'd earned the respect of the magicals in the country. He was known for his kindness and his skill and was soon established as the de facto leader of magicals and their Unified Magical Party. The king noticed and, as powerful men do, kept a wary eye on Balinor, especially as he was actively fighting against some declaration that the king strongly supported. With the declaration in place, some small rule against magicals, the king felt content and didn't think twice about this little politician. After all, there were more pressing matters of state at hand.

The king, a young man named Uther Pendragon, and his wife had struggled for several years to conceive. When Ygraine had finally fallen pregnant, relief swept through the kingdom. It was paramount to Uther to create a legacy, to let his name live on. It was only through some small miracle that the monarchy held political power at all in those days and without an heir, Uther would lose his stronghold. The queen, a well loved and respected woman named Ygraine, struggled with the pregnancy in her own quietude. She didn't want to burden her husband with what she was dealing with, he had other things to focus on at that time.

The queen died when the child is born. Uther was overcome with grief and could not bring himself to hold his own child for several days.The girl existed all that while without a name. They'd never committed to a name, never chosen something for a little girl, as Ygraine had insisted on keeping the gender a surprise. Uther, unable to bear that this child did not have a name called the girl Arthur and for some reason it stuck. Arthur was Uther’s own father’s name and it had a strong family resemblance.

When Arthur was still only a few days old, someone from the king's counsel brought forward the suspicions of sorcery playing a role in his wife's death. There was the claim that concoctions given to her to conceive had been tainted by bad magic and the king suddenly gets the thought into his head that somehow Balinor is involved in her demise. Who can argue, then, with a grief stricken king?

By the time there was enough evidence, false or otherwise, pieced together to implicate Balinor, he had several years of peace. He'd gotten married, had a daughter of his own and raised her to the tender age of four. Then everything changed and he never knew that happiness again.

After Balinor's death, there was an outcry by magicals and non-magicals alike. It was the most united the country had been in ages, and they're united in discontent towards the king. The king shuts himself up with his advisors, with the prime minister, with anyone he can consult with about his next moves. Finally, they draft up a plan that allows more leniency towards magic users, casual and otherwise. It's not enough, it doesn't absolve Uther of his sins against the community, so he must find another path.

Merlin remembers the first day she's primped and prodded to go meet the king more clearly than she remembers most anything about her father. She was barely eight at the time, a wisp of a girl who already showed immense promise in her skills with magic. Her mother mutters the entire time she dresses her in her pale blue dress, mostly obscenities against the king. When Merlin asks if she can just stay home, though, she reminds her of what a high honour it is to be recognized by the ruler of the country.

Thankfully, the king takes even less interest in Merlin than he does in her mother, who he has to treat like some great celebrity nonetheless. The task of entertaining Merlin falls to his daughter, Arthur, a tall and hearty nine year old who wears proper riding suits and dresses very sharply for a girl so young. Merlin's frock looks ratty in comparison to her suit, but Arthur only shows her judgment with a haughty look and not with her words.

"My father says you don't have a nanny and you've probably never ridden a horse," Arthur says, not really looking for an answer. She's decided to take the girl out to the stables to show off what a horseman she is. "You can ride Pansy, Morgana's pony that she doesn't care for."

Arthur wrinkles her nose when she thinks about her usual playfellow. Morgana is a better horseback rider than she is, but she'll never admit it. On several occasions she's teased, but actually meant everything she said, that a lady, no matter how highborn, should not be better than the future queen of a country. Morgana usually sticks out her tongue and retorts that she's not in line for the crown yet. She doesn’t begrudge Morgana her place in the household as the daughter of a deceased family friend, but she’s still aware that there’s a discrepancy in the affection they’re given.

"I've been on a horse before," Merlin corrects, narrowing her eyes. "But Pansy sounds great. Thank you."

It's not particularly decent to take a girl in a dress riding, but Arthur likes what she likes and is very used to having her way. Merlin doesn't mind, as she'd much rather be doing something than having to talk to some awful princess. The fairytales her mother used to read to her are very deceiving when confronted with the reality of Arthur, the arrogant girl who would rather show off than be a courteous host.

What Arthur doesn't know, however, is that Merlin has a natural affinity for animals and the horse is like putty under her command. She may not know how to jump the jumps or gallop, but she rides easily and with grace. This only leads to Arthur showing off more, making her horse prance and jump without much regard to Merlin and what she is or isn't doing.

Merlin doesn't have time to stop it when the horse bucks her off, knocking her into the dirt and soiling her good clean dress. For the first moments, she's panicked and hurt, as though something is broken, but then she knows all is well and though she's crying, she goes to soothe the pony.

"Nice going, Merlin," Arthur taunts from her mount. "Can't keep on a horse?"

The younger girl glares up at her and her eyes flash gold, only for a moment as she stops herself from using magic rashly. Her mother hasn't taught her much, but she has said that the one person who cannot be trusted with her magical abilities is the king. Surely his daughter is close enough.

"It's your fault! You were dancing with your horse and mine got scared."

"I'm a princess, you can't talk to me like that."

Any confrontation is averted then when Arthur's nanny rushes forward to attend to her guest. The nanny's much more focused on trying to get the dirt out of Merlin's dress than making sure that she's uninjured but the dress is still a lost cause. The most that can be done is washing up her face and scolding her into wearing a sorry expression, which she does naturally enough.

When Hunith and Uther arrive outdoors, hoping to proudly watch their children, Merlin still looks like a proper mess and gets a very disapproving look from her king. Her mother, however, rushes forward and checks to make sure she has no worse injuries than a few minor bruises. Arthur, in the meanwhile, dismounts and gives her father a respectful curtsy.

"Perhaps you should teach your guest about not playing in the dirt, Arthur," he says coolly.

Merlin's never heard a voice that sounds so much like a blade but Arthur doesn't so much as flinch.

"She fell, father, I think she's just a clumsy girl."

Screwing her eyes shut, Merlin ignores how much she's being scrutinized by two critical strangers. She only has to courage to open them when her mother slips her hand in hers.  
"No doubt this could have been avoided if I hadn't insisted on bringing her here in her new dress," her mother cuts in. "I'll think more carefully if I ever receive such an invitation in the future."

"Yes, well." Uther clears his throat, looking between the girls. "We shall send for you again some time."

The two curtsy for their rulers, Hunith's humble and sweet, Merlin's an awkward fumble. Both are tight lipped on the way home, in one of Uther's limos nonetheless, but that evening they order in takeaway and laugh about how absurd the day has been. Neither expects to see the cold king and his arrogant daughter again.

Arthur doesn't really care for her new sometimes playmate. Her father insists that she entertains and humours Merlin at least once a month. Usually, Merlin and her mother will come to the palace and they'll do something of Arthur's choosing. At least she's at an advantage because she can do something she likes and excels at. Half of the time, her guest ends up going home dirty.

On a few occasions, they do something publicly, sit and eat ice cream or play in one of London's parks. There's always photographers in those instances. Arthur's fairly used to the cameras and lights, but she notices that Merlin seems even more awkward than usual when some stranger is watching her kick a ball around. She'll freeze up in front of the camera or try to hide, while Arthur preens for the camera and will pose.

Truthfully, Arthur's never had the chance to be anything but in the public eye. It's the natural lot of a princess, no matter how young, to be a public figure, but Arthur's a particular darling of the press and her country. Her mother, Ygraine, was very beloved by her people and seeing a child with her features and a sweet expression was just what the country needed in the wake of the death of its queen. Anyone who took the time to know Arthur, which was very few people indeed, would say that she was good natured but a bit too indulged by those around her, partially as compensation for her father being away or distant so often. Those she viewed as equals or superiors were treated with respect and those who she saw as lesser with the semblance of it.

She didn't have many playmates or friends besides Merlin, but had the potential to be very popular among her peers. It was difficult for the adults in her life to allow her to be a child too often because she would one day be queen and inherit an immense legacy. Often, she'd sneak away for some fun with Morgana, who she regarded as the closest thing to a sister she'd ever have. When they were caught and reprimanded, Morgana was chided for potentially endangering Arthur and Arthur was chided for taking time to enjoy herself.

Naturally, all of this led to confusion about the free nature of Merlin's upbringing- how openly her mother would kiss and embrace her, or how unguarded she'd be in her movements. Arthur thinks herself too superior to Merlin to be jealous, so instead she focuses on the idea that Merlin is strange and she dislikes her.

As a form of torture, Merlin comes to stay for a week with Arthur's family at the beach. It's annoying enough that Merlin and Morgana get on excessively well, but Merlin apparently is even stranger in her day to day life. When Arthur pushes through a door in her room and discovers that it opens into the other girl's room, she calls out and receives no response. There is, however, the sound of rustling in a corner of the room and she investigates. Merlin's reading a book and in her lap is a small white dragon.

"You can't have that in here, it's a dangerous animal," Arthur states, crossing her arms.

"Her name is Aithusa and she's my dragon, I've got to take care of her." Merlin glances up only long enough to speak and then looks back down.

"My father doesn't like things with magic being about."

Merlin hasn't yet inherited the bitterness of realizing the extent of Uther's policies, but she's bright enough to know that what Arthur said was very rude.

"If he doesn't want magic around, he shouldn't keep inviting me around to play with you, then."

For the first time in Arthur's presence, Merlin's eyes flash yellow and a few books topple down on a nearby shelf. Arthur blinks in surprise and takes a few moments to pause before considering speaking again.

"That's not what I mean. You can't hurt things with that. Dragons are killers."

As if on cue, Aithusa coos and cuddles closer to Merlin.

"I think you're wrong."

Despite the dozen different insults reeling around in her head, Merlin goes back to her book. Arthur only shows her displeasure with a very dramatic sigh and a stamp of her foot before storming off. She seeks out Morgana to complain about their awful guest, but Morgana is only more intrigued by the prospect of playing with a dragon. Because of Arthur's own understanding of Merlin, she misses out on two days of playing and having a good time. She's determined to stick to her original assessment that Merlin is a very strange girl and not one worth noticing further.

**Twelve**

It's no surprise that Arthur goes to the most exclusive secondary school for girls in London. What is surprising is that when it's time for Merlin to enroll, Uther insists on paying for her to go to the same school. By then, Merlin's reached the level of critical thinking to understand that this is a publicity stunt of the highest order. She's also at the age where she knows that she's going to take the best education she can get so that one day she can fight against evil men like Uther Pendragon.

Making friends is a challenge for Merlin, even if she exceeds academically. There's a few girls that she'll share pleasantries with, but many of them are very aware that Merlin is not from a family like their own. She regards this whole notion as absurd because even after her father's death, she and her mother have lived comfortably and haven't had to worry about money, but apparently that's not enough. She's got the reputation of being the royal charity case and that follows her wherever she goes. Most days, she keeps her head down in her books and focuses on her studies.

A group of girls in the year above her make it their personal mission to tease Merlin to the point of tears. The fact that these girls are friends with Arthur is not lost on Merlin and she sees that as the ultimate sting. She doesn't harbor any particular fondness for Arthur, but the two still know each other very well and she'd expect more from her. Arthur's a princess, so she's always going to be popular, and besides that, she's growing into a pretty young woman who's bright and talented at sport so she's well liked throughout the school.

Merlin avoids thinking about Arthur or the girls most of the time, until they decide to take the bullying a bit further. One day after she's collected her books for the day, Sophia comes over to tease her and gives her a shove. This makes Merlin flinch like she hasn't before. Merlin is smaller than the other girls, having not yet hit the growth spurt her mother is promising will come soon, and she's afraid of getting hit. She makes it home unharmed that day, but cowers near the girls every time she sees them in the ensuing weeks.

The breaking point isn't any special day. It's a Friday and Merlin's just eager to get home because she misses her mother. Sophia and her friends, though, corner her just outside of the school.

"Look at the little charity case," one of the girl calls out and another gives her a shove. "She doesn't even belong here."

"I'm just trying to go home," Merlin answers, not looking at any of them.

"Home to your charity house?"

This time, the shove knocks her against the hard brick wall. Her first defense is magic and her eyes flash yellow but before she can do anything, someone cries out that she's using magic and the girls take it as an invitation to violence, swinging fists and kicking. Her only defense left is to try to sink to the ground and slip away, but that doesn't work.

"Hey!" someone shouts. "What are you doing?"

Suddenly the girls still and Merlin peers up from below the arm she's shielding herself with.  
Arthur is standing near the crowd.

"Leave Merlin alone," Arthur continues. "There's no need to hurt anyone."

"But she was going to use her magic to hurt us."

"I've seen the lot of you shoving her about after school for weeks now."

"She's a weirdo with-"

"Leave. Her. Alone," Arthur repeats through gritted teeth.

The girls listen. There's something amazing about the confidence of Arthur and the power she can command. If she wasn't a princess, it would still be impressive, but having the royal background to back it up only further cements it. With the girls gone, Arthur moves forward to aid Merlin. The look on Merlin's face, even with her black eye, is one equally powerful as she moves back onto her own two feet.

"I don't need your help," she snaps. "I could have gotten out of this without your pity."

"Merlin, come on, it's not pity."

"You stood by for weeks," she exclaims. Merlin thinks she's rarely raised her voice in her life. "For weeks they were ganging up on me like that and you let them do it, so don't pretend you're my friend now. Is this the type of queen you want to grow up to be? No better than the bullies? No better than-"

For both of their sakes, Merlin cuts herself off and hurries away. Arthur's fairly certain she knows that the next word out of Merlin's mouth would be her father's name. For the first time in almost half a decade of knowing the other girl, she's aware of the knowledge and power Merlin holds. Her father's "charity case" with her sharp tongue and God knows what other powers will one day be a powerful woman, in many ways her equal.

 

As soon as Merlin sets foot in their house, her mother is rushing over with a pack of frozen peas. Hunith has not been oblivious that her daughter might have a rough time at such an elite school, but she'd hoped Merlin's quiet and gentle nature would mean people would leave her alone. Apparently she was wrong.

Merlin is forced to sit at the kitchen table with the peas to her eye as her mum sits across from her, giving her worried looks. The attention only leads to tears and Merlin has to do everything she can to stop them. They keep flowing nonetheless.

"What happened?" Hunith asks at length, pulling the pack of peas away when she's sure Merlin has had enough.

"Arthur-" she begins, but is immediately cut off.

"That little brat better not have done this." Hunith is ready to go to war for her daughter in that moment, to forsake King and country if Arthur's laid a hand on her girl.

Merlin shakes her head vehemently. "No, Arthur stopped them. It was a bunch of girls. They're her friends. They've been teasing me since I started, but a few weeks ago they started to shove me about."

"You should have told me."

"I'd assumed I could protect myself with my magic," she pauses, expecting a lecture, but when no lecture comes she continues. "Or Arthur would have the decency to stop them, but she didn't until they'd started to hit me."

Hunith sighs and cups her girl's cheek. She's spent a long while instilling in her own gentleness, her tendency towards kindness in her girl, but nothing could stop the natural fire of her father. She could only hope that the young Pendragon didn't have as much of her father in her, or else that would spell doom for any continued interaction between the two.

"I don't pretend that Arthur is the most...kind girl. If she'd seen the other girls bullying you, she should have stepped in sooner, but I don't think Arthur's ever been taught to stand up for anyone but herself."

"She's awful, mum. She doesn't acknowledge me at school, even though everyone knows that she knows me and she's let her friends tease me for months."

"I know, I know." Hunith's in the awkward place now. Her daughter is older, can know more of the truth, but she doesn't want to teach her daughter to hate another girl who's just a child. What will that accomplish? "I'm sorry if my deciding to continue to...expose you to the Pendragons has hurt you like this, my little bird. I thought at first maybe Uther had truly meant to repent for the awful thing he'd done. Naively, yes, but I had to have hope."

The snort that Merlin answers that with can only make her smile. The sharpness of wit, the edge towards sarcasm or dry humour is a gift from her father.

"And then I had hoped that the relationship would give you opportunities, like this school. This is as close as the life I'd have given you if your father were alive as I could manage. Our king is a cruel man, but it's best to get the most we can out of him. And I thought maybe if his daughter had known a magical at a young age, had played with her and grew up with her, that when she was queen in her turn she'd have some more compassion."

"You just didn't know how terrible Arthur would be."

Hunith laughs and takes her daughter's hand. "Arthur may one day not be this terrible, but it's not your responsibility to make sure she's not. If you wish to end this connection we've forged, then you may. I will do my best to see that you can stay in the school if that's what you want, or find another place for you. Just think it over, alright?"

She nods and wipes the last of her tears.

The next day is a Saturday and Merlin's glad to be away from school for the weekend. It gives her time to think about other more pleasant things, like laying in the garden with Aithusa and practicing small spells. In fact, she does just that for most of the morning until she dozes off. She's woken by something obstructing the sun and looks up to see Arthur, of all people, looming over her. Merlin sits up abruptly, nearly ending in disaster as this startles Aithusa. She strokes the dragon under the chin and refuses to speak first.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," Arthur begins. "And about...well, every day until then. You were right, I should have never let them hurt you. We're not friends, really, but I do know you well and besides, it's my duty to make sure everyone feels safe."

Merlin blinks a few times, then looks down to avoid having to look Arthur in the eye. "I accept your apology. I'm sorry I...sort of shouted at you, I suppose. It's not your fault that they did that."

"I still could have made them stop. A long while ago."

"Yeah, I guess you should have." Aithusa, now the size of a large dog, makes an attempt to crawl in Merlin's lap, but she gently nudges her away.

"Does the dragon just...live with you?" Arthur asks.

"Sort of. She likes to stay with me and all that but eventually she's going to be too big. And adult dragons are mostly solitary creatures. Then I'll have to entrust her to some druids, if I don't choose to live with the druids myself."

Arthur narrows her eyes. "There's a difference between druids and magicals?"

"Yeah," she states, as though it's the most obvious thing. "Druid is more of a lifestyle, whereas having magic is an ability, a skill, whether by nature or by choice. I was born with magic, as was my father. Neither of us were raised as druids, but with an affinity with them."

Arthur doesn't wait for an invitation from Merlin to sit down beside her in the grass. She reaches a tentative hand out and Aithusa sniffs her, then rests her chin on the palm. Merlin raises a brow. Aithusa is open and trusting, but usually not towards people who don't usually give her the time of day.

"Your father was a Dragonlord," Arthur recites. She's never taken the time to learn much about Merlin's history, maybe it's time to do that. "Are you a Dragon erm...lady?"

"No. Well, sort of. According to some old boring guys only men can be Dragonlords and it's passed on from father to son. But Aithusa only listens to me and I can speak the dragon language. A bit. Elders refuse to believe I've got the ability and think it's just because my magic is very strong."

"How strong?"

"I'm not sure princesses should sit on the grass," she says, evading answering the question. It's probably not a good idea to candidly tell the daughter of the king that she's the most powerful sorceress potentially ever.

"I think princesses can sit wherever they want, but I suppose when they've used their father's driver to sneak off for a few hours, they shouldn't stay long."

"It's not really sneaking off if a driver takes you, you know." Merlin rolls her eyes.

"It's sneaking off when your father will shout if he finds out." Arthur rises to her feet, swiping off any dirt on her trousers. "See you on Monday, Merlin."

"On Monday." Merlin even goes so far as to smile at Arthur, one of the first intentional smiles she's given the other girl.

**Sixteen**

Something changes after that day. It's slow at first, but Merlin isn't so oblivious as not to notice. Arthur approaches her more at school, or extends invitations to come over to the palace on weekends. These aren't the pre-scheduled arrangements with Uther where there's always an agenda. Sometimes, she'll go just to sit in Arthur's room with her for a few hours while they work on homework. Other times, they'll go for rides or play whatever sport Arthur is most interested in currently.

In short, Arthur and Merlin become friends. They don't talk as much in school, mostly because they run in different circles, but no one teases Merlin again and they mostly leave her alone as she gets older. Merlin's able to take the time to focus on her studies and to enjoy the privileges of one of the finest educations available in the country. It would be easy enough to be oblivious to the changes if they weren't so staggering, honestly.

By sixteen, Merlin hits a growth spurt. Previously one of the shorter girls in her class, she's now tall with long limbs. There's an awkwardness to her that she's not entirely sure how to manage just yet. Instead of filling out, she's mostly gained angles so that her figure is not exactly boyish but still thin.

With Arthur it's another story altogether. Always athletic, she's gained and maintained some muscle even at a young age, and now approaching adulthood, she's bloomed her way into a fuller figure. Her face, which always had an air of nobility but still a plainness to it, has softened to become very pretty. Merlin will often catch herself staring at her friend, the way she moves or the faces she makes, and then have to look away abruptly for fear of being caught.

For several years now, Merlin has more or less known that she likes girls and might even prefer them to boys. Hunith has always been nothing but an accepting mother and the two speak candidly about what Merlin does and doesn't like. She knows that life will never be perfectly easy for her, but she also knows she will have support in all of her choices. Except for, perhaps, the one person she realizes she has a giant crush on.

The greatest relief, and sorrow, in Merlin's life is that Arthur is a bit older and that means she'll go off to uni sooner. When Arthur finishes her A levels and then subsequently receives near perfect marks, Uther decides to celebrate with a party for most of her friends. Most of the school shows up, with even the wealthiest young women in the land clamoring for an invitation to the palace. Merlin is a regular guest, familiar with most of the staff and most of the locations, and gets endless enjoyment at seeing so many of her schoolmates in awe of everyday things for her.  
Her familiarity almost does away with the awkwardness she feels in the blue tulle dress her mother bought her for the party. She spends an hour looking for Arthur and naturally, Arthur finds her first.

"Did Hunith make you wear that dress?" Arthur asks, giving her the once over.

Arthur's wearing a pale blue dress and her lips are painted red. It's the first time Merlin remembers seeing her in lipstick.

"Mum did buy it for me, yeah. It's a bit shorter than I usually go for."

"I noticed," Arthur teases. "My father's gone to his study for the evening, so what do you say to slipping away for a walk? Everyone here is just happy to be in a royal palace, they don't care about me."

Merlin blushes at the idea of Arthur noticing anything about her, but deflects by pulling her away to wander outside, holding loosely onto her wrist as she follows the familiar way to the palace grounds. It's an overcast day, but nothing too out of the ordinary for London. Arthur stops Merlin not far outside of the palace to grip onto her shoulder for support as she removes her high heels.

"I won't carry those for you," Merlin says. "And you can't leave designer shoes laying in the grass."

Arthur rolls her eyes. "My father insists that a future queen wears heels whenever she can, it's not by choice."

"Well maybe he should try wearing heels around sometime or other."

"I'll bring that up next time I speak to him."

She nudges her shoulder against Merlin's and then walks forward quietly. Arthur's been all over the grounds throughout the years and so has Merlin. It’s second nature to weave through the paths, both on foot and horseback.

"So is it Oxford, then?" Merlin asks at length.

"It is Oxford, yes. Father is very firm about that and I don't actually have a preference. I'm excited to have the most freedom I'll ever have."

"I'm excited to have time away from your shadow," she jokes. "I'll have to write letters to you and have them delivered by pigeon or some other bird."

"You could send them to me via Aithusa."

"She's probably too big and obvious now, but I'll suggest it to her. She might be amenable for chin scratches."

Arthur starts to laugh and Merlin's certain it's the most beautiful, perfect moment of her life. Then the sky breaks open and it starts to rain, the type of downpour that only happens in the summer months, when everything's gotten too warm and tense. The two girls share a look before they turn and run back to the palace, Arthur casting aside her shoes, and Merlin delayed by picking up the heels. Merlin's feet slide in her own flat shoes, but she manages to keep up as well as she can, for once feeling lucky to have her long legs. Together they slip in through a backdoor, into the kitchen, then back up through the stairwell to Arthur's room.

The heels make a thud as they fall to the floor and both girls respond in laughter. They're soaking wet and Merlin's aware that her dress is hanging limp and that her curls will be in a tangle soon but she really doesn't care. Her cheeks burn when she's aware of something else, Arthur's eyes on her. Suddenly all she can think about is the ruby tint on Arthur's lips and she has to look down to avoid embarrassing herself.

When she does look up, though, it's only moments until Arthur's mouth is on hers, kissing intently. Merlin feels like someone in the books she's read, unsure of what to do with her hands or her mouth, as she's never kissed anyone before, let anyone someone she has feelings for. When she melts into the kiss, lets her guard down and gives into the moment, it feels divine. But then, like the dissolution of a spell, reality seeps in with its usual coldness. She nudges Arthur away, hesitating when the other girl leans in to resume the kiss. She can't do this again.

"Arthur," she begins. "Arthur, I can't-"

"Can't what?" Arthur's still smiling, a wry smile that seems overconfident. Merlin wonders if Arthur's kissed other girls, or just the boys she's heard about. Arthur doesn’t usually withhold anything from her.

"I can't kiss you or snog you or anything you!"

"I- I don't mind. I've been thinking about you, like that, for some time now. I mean, also as a friend, but you know-"

"Then if you have any respect for me as your friend, you won't."

"There's nothing wrong with kissing."

Merlin's not really sure when she's started to cry, but she certainly has.

"There's everything wrong with kissing you! Being your friend is one thing, because I can always keep you at arm’s length but I can't trust you enough to be more. And it's not- it's not you, honestly. As a person I trust you it's just-"

"It's just who I am. My title."

The expression on Arthur's face is blank and Merlin wonders if she'll ever get to see a smile or hear her awkward, charming laugh again.

"Your father," she answers quietly. "I have all the respect for him that a citizen must have towards their king, but he led an attack against my father. He killed my father and I can't trust that he won't use me for his own agenda. More than he has."

"You're not an agenda, Merlin. You haven't been for years, you've just been my friend."

"I'm an agenda. Reform the daughter of the bad magical, show her kindness and what it's like to be us. I can't let your father win."

"I don't see how a girl kissing his daughter is letting him win."

She laughs at Arthur's statement and takes a few steps back. Where can she even go with that? How easily Uther could use their romance, if this would even be a romance, against her? How the best case scenario is that it's used as an agenda about reforming the daughter of his alleged enemy? How Uther's been winning all along, the moment she showed up at the palace in her blue dress and didn't tear it down. When she didn't insist on her mother withdrawing her from school. When she realized that she could so easily be in love with Arthur.

"You are everything I'm supposed to stand against, Arthur. The system that's killed my father, that's oppressed every single person like me. Being your friend means an olive branch, getting sucked into your world means I lose sight of that."

"You don't lose sight of that. Hate my father all you want, I don't care."

"But you will always love your father, and it's not my place to take that from you."

"Merlin, please," Arthur asks, taking a step towards her. "After this I have to go to stuffy old Oxford to study and also to, according to my father, hopefully find a properly titled husband who will support me as crown princess and later queen. And then I'm supposed to pop out some heirs, preferably little snotty Sophias, shoving around girls who actually care about their school work. You're one of the only good things I've got. You've always been, even when we were kids and I hated you because I envied you. You showed me what it was like to be free."

"And you'd get bored of me, or tired of the fact that I defy your father. We're grown now, Arthur, or almost. I think it's time for me to leave your world and enter my own. I've got my own destiny, my own boring duties."

"With your precious druids." Arthur steps back.

"With my precious magicals," she corrects. "I'm sorry. I wanted so badly to kiss you for so long and then-"

"It ruined everything."

"I think this was going to happen either way, Arthur."

She steps towards the door, fumbling awkwardly with the doorknob. She doesn't look back, doesn't care that there's the red smudges around the corner of her mouth as she hurries out. She'll head out on her own, take the tube back and curl into her bed for at least the rest of the summer. There's no obligation, she realizes, to ever see Arthur again and that's probably for the best. With Arthur around, she doesn't see things clearly, she forgets who she is and what she should be working towards. In order to work towards a change in the world, she can't be in love with the very embodiment of what she's hoping to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The struggles that Magicals/Magic Users face in this fic are in no way meant to draw a direct comparison to any one struggle modern activists face- but I borrowed some of the rhetorical ideas from the oppressions faced by members of the LGBT community (of which I am a part) and women's reproductive rights. My reasoning for this was because most magical characters featured are women and the most prominently featured is noticeably not-straight in this story. I did not want to borrow from marginalized groups that are not represented in this story.
> 
> I especially do not want this to reflect on any real oppressed groups because of the way that Nimueh is portrayed in this story- it's important to show the differences of opinion within groups (Merlin feels differently from Morgana who feels differently from Morgause) but because this is a. a work of fiction and b. based on a BBC family oriented show with simple storytelling, it needs a villain, doesn't it? Besides, we all know the real villain in this piece, right? Misunderstanding.
> 
> Just kidding, it's Uther. Fuck that guy.


	2. Chapter 2

Traveling around the world taught Merlin many things, but some days she thinks the most important lesson that she's learned is that London will always be home. Upon returning to London after her years studying in America and spending her breaks wherever she can afford to fly off to, she feels a strange content feeling. For the first few weeks she lives outside of the city with her mum, but then manages to find a flatshare that suits her needs.

Her uncle Gaius, who is not really an uncle at all but an old friend of her mum's, sets her up with a job at his shop selling magic supplies. She spends her days making sure people understand what they're buying and making poultices for aches and pains and her nights getting to know and understand the magicals of her city. It's not exactly what she wants to do but she's working towards that.

The shop closes early on Saturdays and she spends her afternoons walking through the city. Usually her goal is to get lost and then use her magic skills to get herself back home. However, as it begins to downpour, her main objective on one particular Saturday is to find a cab to take her to the nearest tube stop so she can stay dry. She's stuck on some residential street in a posh neighbourhood and seems completely out of luck. When a car pulls up, she's almost desperate enough to climb in without even asking. Almost. She falters. This is definitely not a cab, but maybe it's someone genuinely wanting to do her a favor and not murder her?

Before she can commit to anything, the back door swings open. Leaning in to peer into the cab of the car, she sees a familiar face. Her heart starts to hammer in her chest, but she quells that soon enough.

"I suppose it's a faux pas to refuse a ride from royalty, but I'm fine with walking. Thanks." 

Merlin all but slams the door shut and walks ahead to a crosswalk in front of the car. As soon as she's crossed, a cab goes by, drenching her completely in dirty water from a nearby puddle. The door is opened for her a second time and this time she doesn't refuse.

"It is rude to refuse anything from royalty," Arthur states once Merlin's in the car. "It's good to see you, Merlin."

She's not really sure if she'd use the word "good" to describe seeing Arthur. The last she saw her was the day they kissed. Since then, she's even refused to pay attention to the newspaper articles when she can help it, there may have been isolated moments or days but her life has been mostly Arthur-free. It's been better to keep her distance completely.

"Likewise, your highness."

"My flat is just a few blocks away, I can have my car take you to wherever you live now, but perhaps you'd like to dry off and change first?"

"I don't exactly keep spare clothes in my bag."

Arthur gives a dismissive wave and she supposes that is that. For whatever reason, perhaps as punishment, Arthur's going to take her to her place. Her first instinct is to do anything to keep from staring. She knows what Arthur looks like now, she's seen the covers of magazines and the news stories, but it doesn't change the fact that it's even more dazzling in person. It's not just her beauty, Arthur's got the regal bearing fitting a future queen.

Merlin feels she must look awkward in comparison, with her oversized canvas jacket and her hair bobbed short over her mother's sink. She's no shirking flower and she's aware that she's grown up to be pretty and has a charming face, but Arthur's a presence like she's never seen before. She doesn't have time to dwell for long before she's ushered into a flat larger than any flat has a right to be. Her clothes drip, leaving a small pool of rainwater in the doorway.

As Arthur disappears up the stairs without another word (maybe this is an illusion and there is no Arthur at all), she peers into everything she can find sitting about the living room. It's a bit more modern than she'd anticipate from a royal residence, but still with all the expensive but tasteful fittings she's known the Pendragons tend to favor. Merlin's just peered underneath a painting to see if it's an original when she hears the distinct sound of a clearing throat at the foot of the stairwell. 

"I'm, erm. I'm surprised your father allows you to live someplace besides a royal place of residence," she says, recovering once she's returned the painting to the wall.

"He wasn't happy about it, but his advisors say that it makes the family appear more normal. I welcome the freedom of having my own place."

"Tell me about it," she says, smiling. "I've got a flatshare with two flatmates and it's always so noisy."

"I've brought some clothes with me." She holds out a neatly folded shift dress. "In case you want to change out of the damp things."

Merlin hesitates a moment before taking the clothes. It's rude to refuse a princess and she's already done it once today. Arthur points her in the direction of the bathroom and she changes hastily, removing her damp clothes and tugging on the shift dress. It's made out of a softer cotton than she's ever remembered wearing and she wonders if Arthur will be missing it. The asymmetrical hem at the bottom with the lace trimming, though, makes her doubt it's Arthur's at all.

"It's not exactly as generous to give someone a dress that belongs to someone else," Merlin states, stepping out into the living area.

"It's Morgana's," Arthur explains, as though that does away with any guilt she might have. "She left it a few weeks back, after I let her stay here for an evening."

"So you still keep in contact with her?" Instead of being awkward, Merlin makes herself at home on Arthur's couch. The years of exploring have made her at home in some of the strangest and most awkward of places.

"Whatever the truth is, she's always been like a sister to me and it doesn't really matter unless she thinks it matters. I'll own her as my sister if that's what she wants, but it isn't."

About two years prior there was a big scandal in the newspapers when a tabloid ran a story that Morgana was Uther's lovechild. The king wouldn't say anything either way and the fervour died down after the next big scandal occurred anyway. Merlin had sent a letter to Morgana and they'd exchanged a few back and forth, but it was the last she'd heard from her. The truth didn't really take prying out, Uther's silence had said it all and Morgana continued with her life as usual.

"I'll have to drop by and see her sometime soon," Merlin says, "We've got some catching up to do."

"I'm sure you have a lot to share about your exciting world travels. Or your druids."

"I wouldn't call my life exciting. I went to a few places to research the magic of the locations and as for the druids...I don't really think running off to live with them is for me. I've been working at Gaius's magic shop until I figure out what to do with my life."

Arthur settles on the other side of the couch, keeping a moderate distance. "So you've been here in London?"

"I have been. I want to be in London, so this is where I'll be."

"Well, I'm sure you know I've been here. And everything I've been doing for the past several years, what my favourite food is, my dress size, and what my zodiac forecast is for the next three months."

"That's a bit conceited of you."

"But you've probably got a question you're dying to know the answer to."

She files through a list of rumours and snippets she's heard about Arthur over the years. "Are you dating the Prime Minister's son?"

"That's a no." She shakes her head. "Leon's a good friend and I usually take him as my escort to events because I don't need there to be several other rumors started."

"That's kinda too bad, he's good looking, and people seem to really like him."

The expression on Arthur's face then is not a pleasant one, and though she shifts easily back to a smile, Merlin doesn't forget it.

"I should go," Merlin says before rising to her feet. "It was...good to catch up. I'll see you around."

That specific promise seems rather hollow, but Merlin feels obligated to give it. Truth be told, it's probably best that she doesn't go out of her way to see Arthur. Especially if Arthur knew the full extent of her current activities and political views.

It's only a few days later that Merlin does take the opportunity to visit Morgana. She'd always gotten along very well with Morgana and usually preferred her company to Arthur's (at least when they were still children) but the past few years had meant she was distant with everything and everyone to do with the Pendragons. That didn't mean she didn't maintain the friendship, of course, and she was glad for the novelty of having high tea with someone she hadn't seen in ages and ages. Morgana ultimately leaves her with a warm hug and an invitation to a party she's hosting the following weekend. It's become clear that Morgana is very insistent that she shows up and Merlin readily accepts.

When she shows up in a cocktail dress and her typical flats, she immediately feels underdressed. It's not that everyone else isn't also wearing cocktail dresses, just that they've got very fitted designer things not purchased directly from the rack. She decides it's best to keep to a far wall and hopefully avoid speaking to anyone that night at all. She has almost half an evening of success as she only speaks to Morgana and stands with her glass of red wine. Then she catches Arthur's eye across the room as she arrives.

Merlin's suddenly reminded of that big, giant, not so convenient crush she had on Arthur all those years ago. Arthur's got on a sleeveless red dress, ending just above her knees. She can clearly see the definition of Arthur's upper arms and can clearly see how much she wants to twirl a finger in one of her artificial curls. Thankfully she's self possessed enough to swallow down that urge and try not to make eye contact again.

She pretends to be occupied by staring at her phone, but it's only a few minutes later that Arthur's standing beside her.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Arthur starts. It's not a very good start at all.

"I am friends with Morgana. I told you I'd be seeing her soon when I saw you recently."

"This just isn't your crowd, that's all."

She turns to Arthur and cocks her brow. "I don't think you really know my crowd, you haven't seen me for over half a decade."

"No, but I know you've been at uni and backpacking around, not attending fancy parties."

"Still not your place to presume. My father was a rising politician with a lot of political and social connections. I maintain those."

"I think you're just saying things to contradict me. Can I get you another glass of wine?" she offers.

"Sure." She shrugs, feigning disinterest. She's handling this very poorly and immaturely, given that she's the one who cut off contact for so many years. Her first instinct is to run away from the party and never contact Arthur or Morgana again. There's no time to act on this, however, as Arthur's back with a glass of wine, and one for herself, after a few moments.

"Shouldn't a princess be seeing more people at a party?" she asks Arthur, once she's sipped her new wine.

"This is a party at Morgana's. Everyone here knows me, it's sort of an unspoken thing to leave me alone."

"You sound like the real life of the party, Arthur, truly."

"Pretty much any other event I go to, I feel like I'm forced to be."

Merlin decides the most courteous thing to do then is to drop the subject. "My mum said to say hello if I see you around again."

"Tell Hunith I say hello as well. She should come by for tea some day."

"Maybe she will, next time she's in town. She's moved back to her hometown with me gone adventuring. It's too lonely in the old house, she says."

"Well, next time she visits you, then."

"I'll mention it to her." Truthfully, Merlin knows her mother would prefer to distance herself from the royal family altogether. Regardless of whether it was right, Hunith got what she wanted out of that relationship: connections for Merlin's future. With Merlin grown, she had no need to be around the king whom she disdains any longer and can live the life she prefers to live.

The conversation stays like that for most of the night, awkward topic after another, until they've both had enough glasses of wine and start debating about everything on Morgana's couch. A few times someone will come to sit beside them and leave shortly after they realize how much they're secondary in the conversation. By the time Merlin looks at her watch, seeing that it's very late to get across the city, she's sitting probably too close to Arthur.

"I need to go," she explains, setting aside her empty wine glass and standing. "I think I've already missed the last bus for the night."

Arthur stands after her. "I can have a driver sent for, if you like. I've always got access to a full staff, it's no problem."

Merlin shakes her head. "No, that won't be necessary."

It's Morgana who cuts in then, collecting both of their glasses with finesse, among the others she''s juggling. "I'll hear of none of what either of you are talking about. You've spent most of your night on my couch, might as well finish it there."

For a moment, Merlin thinks Morgana's implying they both should stay there and feels a blush rising to her cheeks, but then she stamps that thought down. "If you don't mind."

"As long as you don't mind the sound of Arthur snoring from the guest room." Morgana winks at her. "I'll set some night clothes out on the vanity, so you can change when everyone's finally left." She turns and glares at some lingering friends in the doorway.

"If you hear any snoring at all, Merlin, it's Morgana. Good night." Arthur ducks out to the guest room. 

For Merlin's part, she's up a bit longer, helping Morgana with the clean up and chatting. She's always been amazed by the humble nature of Morgana, used to the lap of luxury and still with the means to live extravagantly, but choosing to do most things herself. Granted, there's no denying that Morgana is wealthy and used to finer things, but she likes to do as little as possible to inconvenience others.

"Whatever happened with you and Arthur?" Morgana asks as they're placing wine glasses in the sink. It's nearly four in the morning, but neither of them seems tired enough to sleep. If Merlin remembers from when they were kids, Morgana has sleep problems so this may be typical for her.

"I'm assuming you mean when she went off to uni and then we didn't speak again for years?" Merlin says, trying to avoid answering.

"Yeah, exactly. I know you two weren't always friends, but when you got to know each other well...you understood each other in ways other girls didn't."

"We fought," Merlin admits. "There was a misunderstanding, and I didn't really have the ability to try to mend things, so I just stayed away."

Her hands fumble with the wine glass in her hand, but she manages to catch it. She's aware that it's no good to dwell on one moment she had years ago, but sometimes she can't help it. But only sometimes, she's been in love since then, after all.

"Did it have to do with the fact that Arthur had a big crush on you?"

That's when the glass does slip out of Merlin's hand, clattering but thankfully not breaking.

"Arthur did not have a big crush on me, trust me. I'd have known if she did, I saw her pine after enough pimply teenage boys from a distance."

It's easy enough to pretend that Arthur hadn't told her as much, confessed that she'd thought about her. Merlin picks up the glass and sets it up with the others.

"Merlin. She told me, not until after the fact, but she's admitted that fact to me at least."

"It didn't have to do with her crush on me, no. Not directly. I like girls too." She shakes her head. "It had to do with who I am and who she is and what we can and cannot be."

"I'll drop the subject." Morgana squeezes her shoulder. "I've set out those clothes whenever you're ready to go to sleep. Arthur's clearly dropped off already."

They both share a giggle at the tell-tale sound of Arthur snoring softly from the guest room.

Merlin's given a respite for a few weeks from dealing with any remaining strange feelings about Arthur. She's free to live her life as if she'd never even met the crown princess. It's probably better that way, working her day job with Gaius, going home, settling into life. Part of her misses exploring the world, the intrigue of learning and growing, but she thinks it's become more apparent than ever she needs to be home, to learn about her home and its people.

It's no secret that it's not the easiest time for Magicals. At first, Merlin tries to ignore it, as she'll listen to Gaius tut over his newspaper in the morning, or she'll glance at a TV screen. Becoming jaded would be an easy thing, but then she starts to read the paper after Gaius is done, and to search out articles and anything she can do to help. She can’t be silent because she’s back home in London now. Instead, she seeks out meetings of the Unified Magical Party and that sets a whole other idea in motion.

One evening, after a small scale meeting for young party members, one of the women asks her to go for a pint. Always glad to make friends, Merlin accepts. They go to a pub hidden down a side street and find a relatively secluded table. Merlin eyes the other woman, Nimueh, awkwardly across the table. Nimueh holds herself with an air of confidence and had proudly declared herself a Priestess of the Old Religion in front of the whole room earlier. Merlin can barely admit that she's a magical in most circles.

"Your father was a true hero," Nimueh begins, sipping her cocktail. "The Magical party hasn't known what to do without him all these years, and it's because of that loss that Uther's hatred has become stronger."

"I don't think the loss of my father single handedly created that. There's been a very strong argument that with my father gone that we've focused so single handedly on Magicals that we disregarded the intersectionality and it has only benefited Magicals who are-"

"But it's still been after his death," she states. "I was just a girl when he was taken from us myself, but the other priestesses have always said that they see something of him in you."

Merlin shrugs uneasily. She's always admired her father, especially looking back at all he's done now that she's grown and understands, but she doesn't want to be the same as him by any means.

"We need someone like him again," Nimueh continues. "And everyone's been saying that you're the natural choice, if you'd just step forward."

"I'm interested in political action but not politics."

"Is it fair to withhold from politics when you're the natural choice? When everyone says you're one of the most powerful Magicals to ever walk the earth?"

The urge to dismiss herself from the table is suddenly overwhelming. Merlin doesn't want to be some grand example, she wants to do work for the greater good and live her life quietly. But maybe that's not the right thing or what she needs to do.

"I am doing all I can to help our cause. I want to educate and change and march and...whatever else it takes, but I need to figure out what's best for me."

"It's what's best for us. And we need you. Aren't you angry after so many years of being a pawn? Being forced to hang all over some obnoxious princess to prove our bastard king has a heart?"

"I've cut myself off from that, that's all I needed. I don't need some sort of retribution for that. Arthur is not like her father."

"She's a Pendragon, they've been the same for generations and generations and we all know that. We need to dismantle the political system and if we've already got a fox in the hen house..."

Merlin holds up a hand. "I'm not interested in any of that. Any relationship I have with the royal family is personal and not political. I will do what I can to carry on my father's legacy and I'm always happy to become more involved, I'd be happy to attend more political events and do whatever the party needs from me, but I will not take advantage of my relationship with members of the royal family."

"Of course, forget I mentioned it." Nimueh's smile is all too dangerous, but Merlin likes to believe the best in other people, so she finishes her pint before heading home. If there's an uneasy feeling at the pit of her stomach, it's nothing she can't sleep off.

Merlin's begun to suspect (or maybe hope) that she's done with the Arthur chapter of her life when Arthur gives her a call. Or more specifically, she gives her a call asking if she'd like to come by for a dinner party she's hosting. It's supposed to be a few of her closest friends and Merlin suspects she's invited as a random selection to even out the numbers without offending anyone. She accepts the invitation anyway.

The dinner party, while technically a smaller gathering, is intimidating. It's evenly divided between men and women and Merlin's fairly certain she's the only person without a fortune or title to her name. The moment of panic she feels when she takes her seat and discovers that the name on the placard for the seat next to hers is the Prime Minister's son is overwhelming. She's relieved when, immediately after, the aforementioned young man sits beside her with a warm smile.

"Arthur's mentioned you before," he says. "I'm Leon, which I'm sure you know, but I like to actually introduce myself."

"Merlin. And I know you know that, obviously."

She holds out her hand for Leon to shake and they immediately begin to talk as if they're old friends. In another world, they may have been old friends. Merlin's still not convinced that Leon and Arthur are not romantically involved but she doesn't want to wander down that thought process. It may reveal more about herself than she cares to share.

Leon's able to give her information on the other guests at the dinner party- mostly university friends of Arthur's, or people she's been forced together with because of family connections. What Merlin gathers from the comments is that Arthur doesn't have many close friends, despite being popular and well liked. It's not that surprising to realize, as a teenager Arthur had very few friends besides Merlin, but it still was a bit sad to realize nothing has changed.

After dinner, she insists she won't monopolize on Leon's time and takes some time away, keeping to a corner of the living room. She meets Arthur's eye across the room and then quickly looks away. It's strange to Merlin how easily she can be reverted to the awkward teenage girl, out of place next to Arthur and her dazzling smiles and her fancy friends. It's only one glance and she's remembering everything she'd once felt. But despite the magnetism, she must also remember why she kept herself so far away.

Arthur doesn't exactly get the same cue from Merlin and makes her way slowly across the room, singling her out for conversation.

"I wasn't sure if you were going to come tonight, but I'm glad you did." Arthur smiles at her. "It's nice to have...not all the same sorts of people."

"So not all very wealthy people who do this for dinner most every night?" she teases.

"Yeah, exactly. And Leon thinks you're great, which is high praise. Now you know you've got the ear of the Prime Minister, or at least his son," Arthur teases right back.

"I don't think one dinner party can give me that much influence, but thanks."

Someone calls Arthur back over then and Merlin decides to glance at her phone to avoid talking to anyone else. She can't relate to these people and isn't sure she necessarily wants to try relating to anyone. Merlin's just checked the time on her phone for the third time when she realizes Arthur's beside her again, glancing over her shoulder.

"Who's that?" Arthur asks after a glance at her background.

"That's a bit invasive, princess." Merlin quickly switches off her screen. "That's Gwaine. We live together."

"You've never mentioned-" Arthur begins, but then she's interrupted yet again when one of the men calls her over.

Merlin finds a comfortable spot to sit and it's only after a few moments that she realizes what Arthur must have assumed by her phone background. It's an innocent enough picture of her kissing Gwaine on the cheek. It's set like that because Gwaine keeps changing it every time she leaves the room, so she keeps it that way. But to Arthur it very likely appears that she's involved with them in some way. For some reason, or a very specific reason if Merlin is honest with herself, it's very important to let Arthur know that she's very much so unattached.

Then the nagging, invasive thoughts come in. What makes her think anything has changed at all, exactly? She wouldn't kiss Arthur years ago when they were just girls because of who Arthur was. Arthur was still that same person, she couldn't distance that from the woman across the room. Even if the pull was still there, the chemistry and the attraction, nothing had changed to make it suddenly alright to pursue those feelings. It was highly unlikely Arthur would be able to pursue anything were she free to, anyway.

When she finds a proper opening, she makes an excuse to leave for the evening. Arthur all but leaps over half of her guests to walk Merlin to the front door. She's a courteous host and a warm hearted friend with the few people she lets become close enough.

"Thank you for coming over tonight," she says, grabbing Merlin's jacket from where it's hanging in the front hall. She holds it out and Merlin, mostly without thinking, slips into it.

"Well, it was an offer of dinner and I'm not so fond of cooking." She turns as her lips quirk into a smile. "So was I invited to even out the numbers?"

"A lady never tells her secrets, Merlin."

Arthur's standing close and the noise of the party seems distant, muffled more than Merlin knows it actually is. There's an expectant, heavy moment hanging in the air. Merlin's aware of the body next to hers, dressed expertly in a royal blue mini dress, with her hair pulled up so carefully. The tabloids and the fashion writers would call Arthur's look regal, dignified, suiting a princess. Merlin would agree with all of this, but also own to a wildness, a rawness in Arthur's nature that shines through. Something anyone would be honoured to peel back and discover further.

The momentary trance is broken by the exact act Merlin is hoping for- Arthur leaning forward ever so slightly. Her own first instinct is to lean in and she humours that impulse for a moment before pulling away.

"I can't," she explains softly.

"Right, of course. The- you live with someone."

"No, not like that." She shakes her head. "They're a friend. You know why I can't."

"We're not kids anymore, Merlin."

Merlin furrows her brow. "You're right. We're not. We've grown into what our fathers had planned for us to be and that makes it even more impossible."

"You don't know what I've turned into." Arthur takes a step back.

"You're right, of course. I don't know." Merlin swallows hard.

"I've thought about you more than I had any right to these past few weeks. And even before then."

There's probably an appropriate answer to that statement, but Merlin's saved from searching for it when two of the other guests move to the entry way to collect their things. Instead she gives Arthur a kiss on the cheek goodbye, which Arthur returns. It doesn't convey anything much, but Merlin hopes it gets the message across.

Later that evening when she notices the faintest smudge of Arthur's lipstick on her cheek she wonders if it's the same shade Arthur wore that day they kissed so long ago. Part of her hopes it is.


	3. Chapter 3

As a student, Merlin had attended her fair share of protests. Now as a young adult, she's frequently dragged to something or other by Gwaine. According to Gwaine, their proper occupation is "political activist" but from what Merlin gathers that means part time blogger, temp worker, and money borrower. Still, Merlin sees merit in the enthusiasm of a grassroots movement and is willing to accompany to fight for anything she believes in.

Then there's the day she's invited to a march on the palace. There's been a big uproar because the government, headed by the king, is proposing banning magic in reproductive healthcare. Something about this sits awkwardly for Merlin, like there's some unresolved issue she can't exactly put her finger on. Instead of just showing up, she's the first there, holding a wooden sign and ready to march and shout and scream if need be.

The crowds file in, even though it's raining just a bit and while there's no true leader in a march, Merlin stays proudly out front. She stands outside of the gate, shouting for her life as if her words mean something to the people inside. Maybe they do. Maybe no one's home. She doesn't want to be welcome in this awful place, as she once was. If this is what her country stands for, what its ruler stands for, she'll single-handedly tear it to pieces.

A sudden hush falls over the crowd as a line of guards marches towards the gate and it very slowly, marginally opens. Merlin's eyes flash gold for a moment when she fears for the safety of the people at her back, but then she notices a familiar face at the back of the line of guards. If Arthur's there, it's not a threat. Maybe this is a chance for a negotiation, some sort of progress. It would be very naive of her to pretend that Arthur is blind to her father’s policies and even his wrongdoings. If a protest can’t effect change, maybe one person speaking to another can. She relaxes and gives a nod to Gwaine as she slips into the gate. Once it's closed, the chanting and cheering resumes behind her.

"You'll be sorry to know that my father is not home this weekend," Arthur explains, after Merlin's seated in a smallish sitting room. She remembers this as the room connected to Arthur's bedroom at the palace. "I stopped by to go riding, but that doesn't seem likely today, does it?" The princess remains standing, purposely avoiding Merlin's eye.

"I don't think that's what really mattered, what matters is that the people have the power." There's a familiar nostalgia about the room, with its muted red couch and the almost cosy looking floral wallpaper. It's really not Arthur's style in the least but it’s something burned into Merlin’s memory as a reminder of Arthur.

"So you think it's appropriate to stage a protest?"

"I didn't stage a protest, I showed up. I'm a private citizen, that's allowed."

"You've been welcome to this very place as a guest!"

"I have to do what I think is right, Arthur." She needs a place to fix her eyes so she stares ahead. In the room there's a portrait of Arthur's mother and Merlin's awed by how much Arthur takes after her. That's when she remembers exactly what sits so poorly with her- Arthur's mother.

"Regardless of what you think politically-"

"You can't actually agree with these people, Arthur." Merlin rises to her feet. "With your father, with these wretched old, non-magical men."

Arthur turns towards Merlin then, facing her. "It's a complicated issue, Merlin. I can't just choose a side."

"No, I suppose not. You can blindly agree with your father's vendetta and misplaced blame for your mother's death."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." Arthur's face looks stricken in that moment and Merlin knows this will make or break something but she cannot keep herself from speaking.

"Your sorrow is mine. This hatred that your father is trying to bring to the country, to the world, is the same hatred that killed my father. Am I supposed to stand back and not defend his memory?"

Merlin's fist is clenched almost tightly enough to draw blood. Maybe, just maybe, Arthur's finally getting the point, finally understanding everything Merlin's been trying to say for so long.

"You expect me to defy my father while you blindly honour yours."

"No, that's not it." Merlin shakes her head. "I expect you to take a good, long hard look at yourself. Maybe you could even remember the girl who finally stood up and not only stopped a scrawny twelve year old from being bullied, but befriended her, who took the time to understand her."

"That's not a preteen being bullied out there." Arthur gestures widely towards the windows, even though she knows full well her windows face the back. "That's a crowd."

"A crowd of people who are scared, frightened, and angry. Why is this country so afraid of magic? Is this the dark ages?"

"Magic has been used in a variety of crimes, it doesn't mean it's a valid fear but there's legislation for a reason."

"Let me ask you one question then. Are you afraid of me?"

"That's a silly ques-" Arthur begins, but then takes a step back, realisation dawning. She's never taken the time to dwell on the fact that Merlin, her Merlin, is a powerful Magical. She's seen her perform tricks, seen her talk about spells, but she's always been just Merlin. "Not everyone's you."

"You don't get to handpick the good Magicals."

"You're right. Most...people with magic are good people. Like you." Arthur takes a deep breath. "Go back out there, chant, shout. I don't have the courage to face my father and his hatred yet, but I could one day."

"The march is done. If I go back out there, they'll ask about what we talked about and I won't have an answer. Better to let everyone conjecture, then show up for the next march or rally or protest." Merlin steps forward towards Arthur. "Thank you for trying to understand." 

She holds out her hand, which Arthur accepts. They stand locked like that for a moment, but this time it's Arthur that pulls away first. Merlin pulls out her phone to find half a dozen texts from Gwaine, who she just remembers she's left outside.

  


The next day, Merlin wakes to Gwen, her other flatmate, calling her into the kitchen. She fumbles out of bed, pulling on her pyjama bottoms and a tshirt and makes her way haphazardly to the main room. Sitting at the kitchen table is Nimueh, drinking out of Merlin's favorite mug. Merlin scowls and the temperature of whatever beverage is inside increases by a degree. There's several newspapers spread out on the table.

Before Merlin can speak, though, Gwaine tumbles out of their room behind her and exclaims loudly at the sight.

"You're on the front of all of these, Merls. Holy shit."

Merlin grabs one of the papers, glancing over the page. On the cover is a large photo of her at the palace gates, shouting like some sort of force of nature. The headline reads "Emrys Daughter Fights for Rights" and there's a small picture of her father printed along with other photos from the protest. She's gone mostly ignored for so long, and suddenly everything Merlin stands for is dragged out into the open, ripe for public consumption.

"Nimueh came by to show you these," Gwen explains. She pulls her dressing gown tighter across her body. "Obviously. That doesn't need said."

"The right wing papers really, really hate you, it seems," Nimueh says, picking up one of the papers and handing it over to Merlin.

This edition has the same photo, but cropped closer to make Merlin's face look angry. The headline reads "Like Father, Like Daughter: Two Generations of Disrespect."

"This March shouldn't be about me." Merlin places both papers in her hands back on the table. "This was about everyone who came out to speak out for a cause."  
"Merlin, it doesn't matter what you do, you've always had the public's interest, and now you've stepped into the spotlight. It's time to make good on that, like I've been saying."

Merlin shakes her head fervently. "I'm not interested, Nimueh. I want to live my life and do good."

"You're doing good. You're a symbol of hope for these people, the daughter of one of our greatest leaders."

She crosses her arms. "I'm not interested, I've just said and I'll continue to say."

"Listen, we're not asking you to run for office. You're what, twenty three years old? We just want you to get up and speak out, to let your face get out there as more than a peace treaty enforced by the king."

At that, Merlin hesitates for a moment. "I'll think about it, that's all I can promise."

Nimueh smirks and drains her cup of tea. It must still be warm, but she doesn't comment on it. She glances meaningfully at the papers and makes her exit, not bothering with goodbyes. Gwen wordlessly switches the kettle back on as Merlin settles in at the table. Between the three of them, they pick through each and every newspaper on the table and read through at least half of the blogs featuring the picture.

"Apparently," Gwaine says, pushing an article across the table to Merlin, "Princess Arthur gave you a royal reprimand for your involvement, but you stood firm and refuse to back down."

Merlin barks out a laugh at that. "None of those things took place, but it's a good guess. If anything I have Arthur's blessing."

"Her blessing?" Gwen asks, leaning forward to glance at the paper. She nearly topples her tea, but saves it at the last minute.

"Arthur's not some conservative stick in the mud, she's just got a lot to fight against to make her voice be heard."

"Soo..." Gwaine begins, "Are you and the princess like...a thing? You never talk about her much."

She starts by shaking her head, but then stops herself. Her hands wrap around the mug of tea, as though she can delay answering by simply ignoring the question for a few moments. "A thing" as Gwaine phrased it, can mean a lot of things and there's no use in completely lying to two of her closest friends.

"I used to fancy her when we were teenagers," Merlin answers, trying to find a more adequate explanation. "And I guess I sorta still fancy her now. And she's said some things that imply she felt the same about me."

"Are we talking a 'your tits look nice in this blouse' type of implication or a declaration of love?" Gwaine crosses their arms, eager for an answer.

"Don't be so crass," Gwen interjects, shaking her head. She's just as keenly interested, though, leaning forward slightly.

"Like she's tried to kiss me and admits to thinking about me often. Also when the hell do I wear blouses?"

Gwen's able to take the hint that Merlin's deflecting and starts to collect the papers they've read through. With a stern enough look, she's able to convince Gwaine to do the same, and so they clear up the mess of a potential scandal. In theory.


	4. Chapter 4

Aithusa hasn't been able to live with Merlin for many years. She's grown very large as of late and the druids have offered to take her in. There are very few people Merlin trusts, even amongst the druids, but she's left with few options. The dragon isn't a baby anymore, after all, and doens't need coddling or caring for beyond someone making sure she's staying well fed. This proves to be an advantage for Merlin, so she can escape and spend some time among her druid friends, or outside of the city.

It's only a short train ride from London to where she's going. After the dirt and grime and graffiti of the city's tracks fade away, it's all gentle English countryside. The village is small, made up of just a few rows of homes and shops, buildings that all stand at several hundred years old. The druid lifestyle isn't much different from average small town life in England, it's just more aware of the natural world and the magic that lies in it and also seems to take extra pride in tradition. There's a stillness that Merlin thrives on throughout the area, extending past the fields into the woods. It's like the heart, pumping natural magic through veins that, as they move farther away, get fainter and fainter. Still, even in London or Bangkok or wherever she goes, she can feel this heartbeat.

Stepping off the train, she's immediately greeted by a large, swooping white creature. Aithusa's enthusiasm for her master hasn't faded with time. She laughs and pats the dragon on her head before straining her eyes, there's someone running towards her.

"Sorry, miss. She sort of does that sometimes," the person, a boy of no older than seventeen, says. "Oh! Merlin, hello." A blush creeps up on his features immediately.

"Mordred, hello." She smiles at him. "I've come to visit Aithusa and get some fresh air. Thank you for taking such excellent care of her."

"She's not a problem." He shakes his head. "It's an honour to be able to work with such a creature, honestly. It makes me feel like I'm that much more in touch with my magic abilities."

Merlin picks up her bag that's been knocked to the ground in her enthusiasm. She knows fully well, just as Mordred does, that he's a very powerful magical. He's just awkward with his execution and doesn't trust himself always.

"I'll just be taking a walk around the fields with Aithusa, but I'll bring her back when she's done. She can't come with me to London until we know she won't try to attack any buses." She winks at Mordred and notices the boy's blush grow deeper.

For most of the walk, Merlin tries to teach Aithusa to talk. It's a very slow going process, because she'd missed some important developmental stages. She can bark out a few words, but it's not a conversation. Other dragons can speak, but Aithusa conveys her meaning in other ways. Merlin knows that some have complained that they're losing out on the experience of having a dragon around by Aithusa being mostly silent, but the truth is those people are simply refusing to hear what she's actually conveying.

This afternoon, Aithusa mostly wants to convey to Merlin that there's a lovely, warm spot to lay in the grass, and so Merlin agrees. It's been almost a week since those newspaper articles have been published and she still hasn't sorted out what the hell anything means. She's had a few offers for interviews or even simple statements, but she hasn't granted them. The easiest path would be just to close her eyes and sleep in the meadow for a few weeks. Eventually she'd have to wake up with the correct solution. She's closed her eyes in a facsimile of meditation, enjoying the weight of Aithusa's head resting lightly on her stomach. A shadow looms over her and forces her to open her eyes.

"Iseldir." Merlin squints, and has to nudge Aithusa so that she can sit up.

"Emrys-"

"Is my family name, as I've told all of you before."

"I'm assuming you don't want to be lectured about destiny."

Merlin slowly stands and brushes off her jeans, wary of grass stains for a moment.

"I'm not some ancient prophecy. I'm just trying to live my life and maybe do something good."

"You're worried about the papers."

"I don't want to become a symbol for this movement," she says. "And I don't want to be used to hurt other people."

"Other people or-"

She rolls her eyes. "The princess, yes. I don't want this to hurt Arthur. I think Arthur could one day be the leader we need, I am not that leader."

Iseldir smiles, or smiles as much as a cryptic druid can smile. "I think you're right, Emrys. But I think Arthur may need you to become that leader."

A heavy sigh escapes Merlin, but she doesn't speak further for a few long moments. "I'm going home. I'll come see Aithusa again soon."

"You're always welcome here, Emrys."

"Merlin," she corrects one last time before patting her thigh, an instruction for Aithusa to follow. Her head feels just a bit clearer.

The next day, for the first time since she was a girl, Merlin seeks out Arthur first. There's something intimidating about texting royalty. Mostly, she imagines the bodyguards Arthur frequently has around pre-reading and analyzing her messages before they're even sent. What exactly would they think of a request to talk? When Arthur does reply, it's to let her know that she's in France and then in Germany and won't be home until next weekend.

She supposes it would be easy enough to leave it at that. Maybe by next weekend if she doesn't talk to Arthur again, she'll keep going as she was before. Everything will be as normal as it could be. Instead, she continues to text her throughout the week and then end up planning to have brunch that Sunday.

Apparently brunch with a princess involves one of London's most exclusive restaurants sectioning off a room just for the meal. And for the staff to try to refuse you entry into that very room on the grounds of not looking well dressed enough.

"Honestly, I'm her guest," Merlin protests, glancing over into the other room. "Remember me? In the papers recently?" she offers, as though that means anything.

The waitress shakes her head and is about to insist Merlin leaves when Arthur's bodyguard approaches to personally escort Merlin to the room. She gives him a grateful nod as she steps in and seats herself at the table.

"Sorry about that," Arthur apologizes as she pours Merlin a cup of tea. "I told them I was expecting you, so I don't know why they were acting like that."

"It could be the jeans with the hole in the knee," Merlin answers. She's already fumbling with the napkin to put it in her lap. "I really didn't need to meet in a place this...fancy."

"It's not like I deliberately go out of my way to go to places like this. I sort of have to, for the privacy and discretion."

"You mean the crown princess can't just stroll into a local Starbucks?"

"I have. In the past." Arthur picks up her menu, mulling it over for a few moments. “If I wear sunglasses some people just look past. It’s really something.”

"The bodyguard at the door is kind of weird, though." Merlin glances over. "Can't he just...sit here?"

"Percy sits and eats meals with me regularly, but today he's already eaten breakfast. I think I'm going to have the full English minus the mushrooms, what about you?"

Merlin, truthfully, hasn't even had the time to look. She skims the menu for options, cringing a bit at the lack of prices on the menu. No place this elegant should have a full English on the menu in the first place. She decides on something that sounds simple enough. She ends up ordering a rather complicated sounding tart and worrying that this meal will single handedly be the one to collapse the economy. The thought is absurd, because she's been in places like this before, but usually with her mother and rarely in the past several years. There's no safety net when it's just her and Arthur. Once they're settled, Merlin decides to take the needed leap, net or no net.

She pokes at her tart, thinking of how to begin speaking. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Arthur."

"Well, that can be dangerous, can't it?" Arthur winks at her across the table.

"I'm serious." She looks up. "I'm tired of pushing you away like I've been. It's not working and it's not changing anything. But you have to understand that if I'm going to be...close to you, you're going to have to accept me for all that I am."

"You mean the magic," Arthur clarifies. "I have to accept the magic. I've accepted it already. Never have I shared my father's radical view on magicals and I especially haven't applied those views to you in a long while."

"And if we're going to be friends, you have to accept that I'm going to protest and fight against your father's policies."

"I accepted that when we last spoke. I admire that about you, your passion and dedication to what you believe in."

The warmth that spreads in Merlin's chest feels like a comfort and a burden all at once. The question has never been if she can be friends with Arthur, and they both know it. The real thing she's agreed to is being open to being more than that. For the first time since she was sixteen, she thinks she is.

"But will you admire it when I vocally criticise people that you love?"

Arthur hesitates. "Yes. It won't always be easy, but yes."

Merlin picks at what's left of her food before sliding her free hand onto the table, resting it palm up. It's an act of peace or surrender or victory, she's just not sure which yet. When Arthur moves her own hand to the table, she starts by just touching her fingertips against Merlin's, then she rests her hand on top of hers.

There's not enough of an excuse for Merlin to dwell much longer than that, and she's got her own personal, internal dwelling to focus on anyway. The weight of Arthur's hand in hers and the fact that neither seemed willing to let go sticks in her mind. The issue with Arthur is that she never knows when she'll see her next to get the answers she needs. As Crown Princess, Arthur is naturally a very busy young woman with a large circle of people to entertain. A friendship with a rebel is hardly going to be a priority, even if Merlin will let herself believes that Arthur wants her to be a priority. She resigns herself to the reality of waiting for some sort of invitation.

Unsurprisingly, it's someone else that brings them together yet again. Somehow, Merlin has managed to impress the son of the Prime Minister enough to warrant an invitation to a charity gala event he's hosting. Gwaine, after extensively talking her into going to the event, wins the honour of being her date for the evening. Merlin's not sure what she's even going to do, because the whole point is walking around and looking at art. Well, that part she's got down, it's the part where she can't afford to buy it that she's struggling with.

Nonetheless, she slips into one of her less obviously clearance dresses and helps Gwaine into their nicest suit and they slip out for the evening. They're in the middle of giggling together over a nude portrait when they feel someone approaching.

"Arthur." Merlin has to keep from yelping the name in surprise. Gwaine's no help in the way they playfully nudge her. "I didn't expect you here."

"Probably not as much as I didn't expect you," Arthur remedies. The people in this room are by and large her associates, after all.

"Fair enough. This is Gwaine, one of my flatmates."

"The one on the phone background," Arthur recollects. "I'm-"

"The future ruler of our country," Gwaine says, "I don't think you really need an introduction. Besides, Merls here talks about you all the time."

The result that produces is a deep blush across Merlin's cheeks and Gwaine striding away. They've made eyes at someone across the room and are looking for a casual flirtation for the evening, no doubt.

"They're not always that rude," Merlin says,"it's more about getting the last word in, or being dramatic."

"I know a lot of people like that, don't worry. Are you having a good evening?"

She shrugs. "It's not my crowd, as you know. I can't afford any of this." Merlin eyes up a passing waiter and Arthur flags him down, snatching two flutes of wine from the tray.

"Your friend seems interested enough in chatting people up," Arthur observes as she hands Merlin one of the glasses. "Though my bodyguard is an interesting choice."

Merlin takes a sip of the wine. "Gwaine likes what they like."

"So you and- the two of you really aren't involved, right?"

"I don't know what it says about you that you won't take my word for it." The smile she gives, though, is light and teasing. "Gwaine and I are not romantically involved, or sexually involved, nor have we ever been. We live together because they used to date the brother of my other flatmate, Gwen. Do you remember Gwen Thomas from school?" Merlin wagers that Arthur probably does not.

"I remember Gwen," she answers. "Smart girl, a year older than you, had really beautiful curls. I actually had the tiniest bit of a crush on her, if you'd believe it."

"Oh, I could, because I did too." Merlin laughs and it's a bit uneasy. She shouldn't be jealous at the implication that Arthur had crushes on other people, she has no right to Arthur's feelings. "But we were friends and I reconnected with her when I was coming back to London, and she mentioned a flatshare."

Arthur nods along and glances at the portrait they're standing in front of. The person pictured is staring with militant firmness. "It's a bit alarming, let's find something else to gape at for a few minutes."

They end up escorting each other around the gallery. Merlin keeps a wary eye on Gwaine and Arthur's stopped every few minutes by someone who feels the urgent need to talk to her. Still, they don't break apart from each other until the night's drawing to a close.

"Did you find anything you're dying to buy?" Merlin asks as they stand to the side of the main entrance, waiting for others to file out. Gwaine's popped outside to smoke a cigarette but as soon as they return, Merlin will leave.

"No, I'll buy whatever's least boring and call it an evening." Arthur glances around the room. "I'm assuming you haven't found anything worth your life savings."

"No, I didn't think I'd find anything I'd fall in love with to begin with."

The fact that Merlin can actually see Arthur biting her tongue to keep from saying anything is actually charming. She's still not entirely sure of Arthur's exact intentions towards her, but she's not some romance novel heroine who is completely oblivious of someone's interest in her. Nor is she some hopeless romantic who thinks dating a princess or sleeping with a princess or whatever it is Arthur wants would be easy, and a charity event with people all about is not the place to ask. Thankfully, Gwaine comes by then to collect her.

"How are you getting to your flat?" Arthur asks, suddenly concerned.

"The...tube. It's not that late and we came on tube."

"In your nice things? I'll have a car come around for you two."

"I don't think your father's drivers will be familiar with my neighbourhood, but thank you. "

"I'd be happy to borrow your bodyguard, however," Gwaine cuts into the conversation. "Whenever he's got a few free hours."

Merlin rolls her eyes and pulls them outside and towards the tube station. She appreciates the gesture, but she enjoys the freedom of being able to do as she pleases when she can. Arthur would do well to remember that Merlin is still living in a very different world than she is.


	5. Chapter 5

After a few more weeks of far too public meetings at places that Merlin feels out of place, she decides it's best to take initiative. She asks Arthur to come by for a dinner that she promises to cook by herself and to chat with her flatmates. It's not something that she anticipates Arthur accepting, so she's shocked and immediately panicks when she does.

The day of the dinner results in furious cleaning and cooking. Merlin is far too concerned with the cleanliness of the flat and Gwen helps, even if she reminds Merlin that any real friend won't judge for a bit of clutter. Gwaine feels that the best contribution they can bring to the table is picking out an outfit for Merlin and then taking a nap on her bed (by accident.) Needless to say, when Arthur arrives, the flat is in chaos. She knocks once, to no avail, then again before pushing the door open anyway. It's unlocked.

Upon stepping in, she first notices the faint odor of smoke from the kitchen. Gwen's mumbling to a roast under her breath. Merlin, in the meanwhile, steps out into the living room with just a pair of trousers and a bra on, holding up the shirt that Gwaine's sleep had wrinkled.

"So you want me to wear this but you slept on it?" Merlin says, unaware of the arrival. Gwaine follows after her, the telltale imprint of one of the shirt buttons on their face.

"I was tired, I like to sleep, you know this."

"It was my bed, Gwaine!"

"Do you think she'll notice if it's burnt a bit on the edges?" Gwen calls to them from the kitchen.

"I won't, thanks," Arthur calls back from the doorway and everything becomes still.

Merlin hurries back into her room as Gwaine attempts to recover from the awkward scene, serving as an over accommodating host for the evening. When Merlin emerges she's not wearing the wrinkled blouse, but a simple henley. Arthur clearly pretends not to see when Gwaine saunters over to her and teases her about leaving the top two buttons undone.

It's Gwen that calls them to dinner. Merlin did most of the work cooking, but the food would have burnt without the intervention from her. The table is set and everyone is eager to eat. Food has a way of undoing awkwardness, at least for a few moments. Arthur's sure these three together are usually chatterboxes over a meal, but she's making things feel strange and stilted. It's up to her to make things pleasant, so she turns to Gwen.

"What've you been up to since school, Gwen?" she asks. "Merlin acted like I wouldn't remember you when she mentioned that you live with her."

"I've been working, off and on. I do costumes for shows on West End."

"And Gwaine you are-"

"A political activist," they say, with a bit of flourish.

"A temp worker," Merlin adds. "With a passion for social justice."

Arthur smiles between them. "Do you go to the, erm, protests with Merlin and Gwaine sometimes?"

"I've been instructed to stay away from them," Gwen answers bluntly, "by my father's lawyers."

Arthur furrows her brow. There's a few moments of deliberation where Gwen's deciding on what or how to explain, so she just lets loose.

"My father's been in prison for two years because he's been falsely accused of using forbidden magic- to help someone, I might add. His whole case is dependent on proving that he doesn't have or use magic, which is ludicrous, so I try to stay as neutral as possible on the issue because it looks best for him that way."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Arthur answers, pushing her food about. "If there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

"Unless you can single handedly repeal your father's ridiculous laws, I doubt it."

There's ice in Gwen's words and it's a dangerous edge that Arthur so rarely walks. Arthur general approach to magic is to avoid it as often as she can, as that's what her father's always said. Thankfully, they're saved from that topic, or any other, by Gwaine bringing up some news story about a celebrity none of them really care about.

After dinner, Gwaine and Gwen both make themselves scarce, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone on the couch. They're on opposite ends, nursing glasses of wine and mutually mulling over how to end the silence. The lights are low, but not too low and the noises of the city ring out in the background.

"I want to see your magic," Arthur admits. "It's been ages since I've seen anything." 

The rumor that Merlin's heard is that Uther doesn't allow anyone to use magic around Arthur, but Arthur's an adult who can make her own choices. It doesn't mean that most people aren't scared of showing her magic. Merlin isn't, though, because no matter what, she trusts Arthur.

"What would you like to see?" she asks, moving closer.

"Surprise me."

Merlin bites her lip as she debates what to do. She clasps her hands and moves them in front of her face, whispering a few words. When her eyes flash gold and she parts her hand, a light comes forth. It dances and flits about them, lighting up the dimmed room. It darts into Arthur's hair and then back out, teasing until Merlin speaks again, closing her hands around it. The awed look on Arthur’s face doesn’t fade away even as the flash of light becomes darkness again.

"I'm sorry about offending Gwen earlier," Arthur admits. "I don't agree with my father's policies but I don't usually get to see the...reality of his views in action. I've been kept in a bubble, even when thinking that I've had my freedom. There's real people who are harmed by the laws about magic."

"They are, they're real people. They're those people at the protest, they're Gwen, they're-"

"They're you." Arthur shifts closer. "I've always assumed because I knew you that you were untouchable by that, but you're really not."

"That's not really a good reason to oppose your father, to hope to set up a new viewpoint of magic in the government." With Arthur seeming so keen to change, she thinks of something she holds close to her heart and has never spoken.

"No, but it's certainly a start."

Merlin finds herself nodding. She's just started to lean in closer when suddenly the light flickers on and they both reel back, blinking. Gwen holds up an apologetic hand as she steps into the kitchen for a glass of water. Both Merlin and Arthur stay very still as they hear Gwen shift through the rooms, then back to her room. Merlin's just opened her mouth to speak when they hear Gwen again, moving back to turn the light back off.

"I think that's the cue to leave." Arthur shifts and stands slowly to her feet. "My driver should be just around the block."

"That eager to leave?" She looks up at Arthur.

"I've got a very nice bed waiting for me back at my flat, as much as I relish the opportunity to sit on the springs on your couch."

"That's not a nice way to speak to someone who had you over for dinner."

"Thank you for the dinner, Merlin."

"You're welcome."

She finally does stand then, watching as Arthur sends off the text to her driver. It's got to be such a strange life for Arthur, even when she's on her own schedule, she's on the schedule of others around her.

"Please thank your flatmates as well for the evening. They're very good people."

There's something tightly wound in Merlin's chest and she wants to nod again, but she thinks if she does it'll end up snapping. Part of her anticipates the snap and the other part dreads it, depending on what it really means. Instead she pointedly looks away from Arthur, who can't help but ask if something's wrong.

"I think about you all the time, too," the words tumble out, and though they're belated they still carry all the weight they were originally intended to have. "Sorry that was ages ago, not necessary." A blush creeps upon her cheeks even as she acknowledges that the smile on Arthur's face is a very good smile.

It's not a nod that breaks the final string, though, but a shake of Arthur's head. The gesture conveys that the apology is not necessary, that nothing Merlin's said is in the past. Merlin's lips form a soft, delicate O as though she's had a great revelation, but she's had this revelation a long time ago. There was never any use denying it.

"I'm going to-" Arthur gestures to the door, but steps forward. The word she's intended to say is not the phrase she's meant, and it's not what Merlin interprets it to mean.

"Please do."

"I'm going to assume you're not referring to me leaving so rudely."

She's stepped close enough now that she's in Merlin's space. No longer the lanky girl she was when they first kissed, Merlin stands only a mere inch above Arthur now. Merlin leans in, pressing her lips against Arthur's. It's as gentle as their first kiss, though both of them are more experienced and confident now. It only takes a few moments to ease into the kiss and when neither of them move to pull away, Arthur takes the liberty of putting her arms around Merlin, resting on her lower back.

They kiss and keep it innocent enough, just a taste, just the promise of more. Before it can move further, Arthur's phone starts to ring, signalling that her driver has arrived. She ends the kiss, but both women hesitate.

"That's my driver. I'll see you soon." She steps away. "Thanks for dinner again and for, uh, that."  
"Any time. For the kissing, making dinner is too much effort."

"I'll make the dinner next time." The look Merlin shoots her is both fond and skeptical. "Okay, someone else will cook us dinner next time."

**Fifteen**

Merlin sits cross legged on Arthur's bed, reading through a book she's been assigned for class. Arthur's been summoned into her father's study for some royal reason Merlin can't even pretend to care about. It's been best lately, to not think about Arthur at all when she's out of the room, because it'll lead to her thinking about her hair or her eyes or something even more soppy. When she hears someone approach, climbing onto the bed, she turns with her warmest smile to face Arthur. It's not Arthur but Morgana who's joining her.

"I don't know why you always hang around Arthur," she says, plucking the book from Merlin. "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course, you can always talk to me." Merlin had always imagined her friendship with Morgana seemed more natural, more authentic, so it surprised even herself when she became so close to Arthur.

"I had one of those dreams again." Morgana bites her lip. She'd been sharing about strange dreams she's had lately that had then been coming true. "But this time when I woke up, all of the lights instantly flicked on in my room."

"Was someone else in the room?" 

"No." Morgana shakes her head. "It was me. I did it. Merlin, I have magic. I've suspected with the dreams but-"

"Morgs, that's incredible!" she exclaims, suddenly realizing why she always felt that Morgana was a kindred spirit.

"You can't tell anyone," is the abrupt answer. "Uther would find a way to use this to hurt people and ruin my family name and I can't have that. I just- I wanted you to know because I need you to help me or to support me or whatever."

"Of course, Morgana, I'm here for you." She places a hand on her knee, then pulls her in for a hug.

"No one can know, not even Arthur."

Arthur, of course, chooses that moment to step into the room. Once the other two girls have stopped hugging, she not so discreetly finds a way to squeeze in between them.

Over the course of the next several days, Merlin finds herself dwelling on the kiss. She's kissed several people since she was sixteen, obviously, but none have had this sort of immediate impact for her. Even with Freya, who she loved immensely when they were together, it hadn't felt exactly like that. It was like pieces coming into place, a resolution and a beginning all at the same time.

But maybe it isn't a beginning, seeing as Arthur was responding to texts at a glacial pace. Allegedly, she'd flown out to Monaco for a few days, so that could explain the terse replies, but Merlin's nature is to be skeptical of a good thing when it actually came her way.  
When she does hear from Arthur, it isn't a text with any sort of explanation or conversation, it's a date (that Friday) a time (7 PM) and directions. Merlin allows herself to entertain the idea that this is Arthur's awkward way of asking someone out on a date.

She debates what to wear that night, but then realizes how ridiculous that may be. There's no way to predict exactly what she's heading into, so she puts on comfy clothes. If Arthur didn't want her to wear two scarves and a Death Cab for Cutie t-shirt, she probably should have made that clear. The instructions are, thankfully, for walking and public transportation, which saves her the effort of trying to direct a cab through Friday night traffic. Eventually, she manages to work out that she's been very clearly invited to a theatre show, as she finds Percy waiting outside of the theatre.

"She couldn't have told me to dress nicer?" she says as he hands her the ticket.

"When you're in a private box, I don't think it really matters. She's already in there."

Merlin tries to be inconspicuous on her way to the box. Many theatregoers are dressed fairly casually, but she still thinks she must stick out like a bit of a sore thumb. When she pushes open the door, Arthur's leaned back in her seat, wearing a perfectly tailored suit and looking every bit the part of a whole new kind of princess.

"You couldn't have just said to meet you at the theatre to see a performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream?" Merlin asks, slipping into the seat beside her.

"I wanted it to be a surprise, that's all." Arthur turns to face her. "Two scarves is a bit excessive, Merlin."

"You just called something I did excessive?"

"Point taken."

They watch mostly in silence as they sit through the show. Merlin is beginning to second guess her assessment that this is a date at all by the time intermission rolls around. They'd shared one kiss, after all, at the end of an evening, it doesn't have to mean anything more than that. Still, inviting someone to a play? Kind of in the date territory.

When the play is finished, Arthur takes Merlin round to meet with several of the actors, all of whom are too starstruck by Arthur to really do more than sign Merlin's ticket. There's a moment of silence that could be filled by just about anything once they've stepped outside. It's filled promptly with the growl of Merlin's stomach.

"You're hungry," Arthur says, glancing over at her. "I forgot about the dinner part of the date."

"So this is a date?" Merlin asks.

"It's whatever you want it to be, Merlin. But if I had my way, yes it is. Now, let's find you something to eat."

After searching for about half an hour, they end up at a chippy where the owner neither knows nor cares that he's entertaining royalty. The fish is too greasy and Arthur keeps making a face at the beer she's ordered, but something about it makes the night all the more magical. Arthur, true to form, asks if Merlin will take a ride home in her car that night.

"Depends," Merlin begins. "Will you ask me out and actually refer to it as a date and not 'whatever you want it to be' next time?"

"I feel like this is a trick question and if I say yes you're still going to insist on taking the tube home."

Merlin tosses away the container of chips she's been trying to finish. "You're absolutely right."

Arthur looks around to see if anyone else is in view. Truth is, noone on these side streets is going to expect a princess, but Merlin understands the natural instinct towards vigilant behavior.

"I can't kiss you good night on a random street corner, though."

"Guess that means you've got double reason to ask again." Merlin shrugs, feigning disinterest in the idea of being kissed. 

"I guess I do." Arthur shakes her head, giving it up as a lost cause. She walks Merlin to the nearest tube station before she calls for her driver. They both have all the more reason to have another date as soon as possible, even if this evening ends in a small disappointment.

As soon as possible turns out to be only a few days later. It's not a proper date, but Merlin's invited to Arthur's very nice flat. As though she has something to hide, Arthur asks Gwaine and Gwen as well, but both of them seem to get the hint that it's a private invitation. Merlin hasn't told her flatmates what exactly is going on between her and Arthur, but they're bright young people who can figure things out for themselves.

Merlin's greeted by the bodyguard on his way out. She waves at him and makes herself comfortable in the living room. Arthur is allegedly getting ready, though Merlin's not sure what sort of getting ready is involved with sitting in her living room.

When Arthur does come down, she's dressed a bit too casually for someone who's just spent a solid amount of time putting in effort. Arthur slides onto the couch without any hesitation or grace.

"What was keeping you so long up there?" Merlin asks. "It's rude to keep guests waiting."

"Well first of all, I'm a princess, so it's a honour to wait for me." She turns over to her. "Do you think I was preening for you? I was taking a phone call with my father's assistant about plans for the next week."

"What are your plans for the next week?"

"I've got to spend about half of it in Scotland, so I'll be cold and wet and miserable."

"Do you have to? I don't know why you would." 

Arthur shakes her head, then nods. "It's just that I really should. Press is important to my family and always has been. I need people to want me to be their queen."

Merlin snorts. "You'll be well liked compared to...well..."

"That is my father, you know?" Arthur says, mocking offense. She doesn't pretend to even act like her father is a great king in every way. She wants to fix her own legacy so it's not attached so closely to his and his cruelty and his hatred.

"Let's talk about something else, I don't think this is what you want to discuss." 

Arthur takes this opportunity to sit up on the couch. Merlin's a bit disappointed that she's not so close anymore, but she supposes she can cope with that for a few hours.

"Can I ask you something, Merlin?"

"You just did, but yes." 

"When we were teenagers and we...stopped being friends. Did you ever regret that?"

She takes a few moments to mull it over, debating how to deal with that sort of question. "Yes and no. I wished things were different, but I don't think I would have made a different choice."

"So you wish you could have been able to make a different choice?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"And when we kissed was that your first kiss?"

Merlin snorts. "Yes, that was my first kiss. No, when we kissed again that wasn't my second kiss. I dated a boy after you went off to uni and then I had a long distance girlfriend until about a year ago."

"Long distance implies you don't see each other. It's easy to not kiss," she states simply. "I haven't had any serious relationships. Mostly because the moment I'd get into one it would be...all over the news. Globally."

"That's egotistical of you," Merlin teases. "So did you invite me here to talk about kissing or to actually kiss?"

"Neither," Arthur lies, but moves closer on the couch anyway.

"Then what am I here for?"

"Well I obviously really, really like your company."

"Liar."

"Is that what I am?" Arthur shifts closer to her, closing most of the gap between them. 

Merlin shakes her head. "No." She moves in, filling the rest of the gap as she kisses her softly. She cups Arthur's cheek as she deepens it. This is only their third kiss and only the first that Merlin has the opportunity to savor and enjoy for more than a few moments. In fact, she has all night.

She deepens the kiss only when she feels bold enough to be sure that Arthur wants more than just a gentle snog. It's not a lewd kiss, but a kiss with intent and purpose and a desire to explore this reality more deeply. This is not a first kiss or a kiss goodbye, but something in between, the middle of a story rather than any other part. Arthur's a bit more of a natural leader in this regard and more or less guides Merlin to a recline to make it even more of a proper snog.

It's only then, when the thought of moving things any further becomes a bit too real, that Merlin realizes that she's never asked about Arthur's dating history, or her intentions, or anything. Saying she didn't have any serious relationships implied...what exactly?

Arthur's fingers tease at the hem of the skirt of Merlin's dress, resting on her upper thigh. That's the signal for Merlin to break away from the kiss. "No."

"No," Arthur repeats. If this were some bad romantic cliche, the no would be a question and they'd kiss and more until the early morning. This no, though, is an echo, a confirmation, followed by Arthur moving to give her more space.

"Sorry, I just-" Merlin wipes her mouth delicately, so as not to offend Arthur. "You asked me about my romantic history and then sort of deflected. What did you have if not serious relationships?"

Arthur smiles in response to that, glancing down at nothing in particular. "Flings, mostly. With men. But I like women about the same. Just that if I'm discovered sleeping with men or going on dates with men it's me being loose, if I'm caught with a woman it's a whole other ordeal and I'd rather go through that with someone who is...able to make that decision alongside me."

"I don't know if I can be that woman," Merlin admits, resting a hand on her knee. "But I can't do this if I'm just a fling, either."

The feeling of Arthur taking her hand and lifting it to her lips for a soft kiss feels almost too much to bear but somehow she manages. "You're neither of those things, you're Merlin. I'm not asking for a grand gesture, and I'm not asking for just one night."

"Then what are you asking for?"

"For you to stand by my side while I figure that out."


	6. Chapter 6

When Merlin wakes the next morning, she can feel the distant fog of the night before. There was snogging, then a bottle of very expensive red wine. Then a realization that it was probably too late for Merlin to go home, but this time she actually agreed to stay.

Which is approximately how she wakes up in Arthur's four poster bed wearing one of her silk night shirts and not much else. For a moment she second guesses herself about what happened the night before, but she remembers Arthur insisting she borrows something to sleep in. What she doesn't remember is having a discussion about sleeping in Arthur's bed with her, as though that was the assumption from the moment they went to bed. Because it was.

If she'd gone to bed with Arthur and slept with her in the less innocent context, Merlin thinks she'd know how to react to this situation. She'd try to say something sexy and maybe kiss her good morning. This is different, though, and she remains where she is, staring at the ceiling and wondering if Arthur's awake as well. Arthur's arm was slung around her waist when she woke up, but she's since shifted on the bed and kicked Merlin as she rolled to lay with her back to her. What does someone say when they've woken up in bed next to the person they're fairly certain they've been in love with for close to a decade? Merlin has a mental list of things she could say or not say but none of them really suit exactly what she's feeling at that moment. The blooming in her chest she felt from the moment Arthur kissed her hand the night before hasn't really gone away and it's awkward thinking of what to even do with such a feeling.

"Merlin," Arthur mumbles, clearly still half asleep. "I can hear you thinking from over here. It's very loud and unnecessary at this early hour."

"I'm wondering how I'm going to explain this to Gwaine without them assuming that we spent all night shagging."

Arthur turns over then and sits up in bed. Her hair's pulled back in a messy braid and something about the morning light really suits her features. Not that Arthur doesn't look stunning at all times, but this is an intimate beauty that Merlin feels honoured to witness it.

"Let your friends assume whatever they like, I trust them not to spread rumours around about me, if they love you as much as they seem to."

"I just, by principle, don't like to have people think the wrong thing." Merlin's almost embarrassed to sit up, knowing full well her own hair is standing up in about half a dozen different directions and she's got a sleep rumpled line or two on her face.

"I've got to meet Leon for brunch today."

"Is that your way of telling me to get out of here fast?" Merlin does smile, but it's mostly out of courtesy. She's a bit offended and hurt that Arthur is dismissing her before even saying good morning.

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to join us, but if you'd prefer to go, sure."

"I don't have anything to wear to brunch. At least not the kind of brunch you're having."

"Last night's dress is fine, I promise."

Merlin narrows her eyes, skeptical of Arthur after her last brunch experience. At least she'll be wearing a dress this time, that's a step up from ripped jeans.

"Do you have a toothbrush I can use?" she asks instead, before slipping out of bed. She's fully aware of the look Arthur gives her when she rises and she stretches just to prolong the look.

"There's a new, wrapped one in the bathroom drawer. Just one thing."

"Hmm?"

"You have to come back to bed after you've brushed your teeth."

"We'll see, Arthur."

She does return to bed as asked and doesn't even make a comment when Arthur's own unbrushed teeth when she pulls her in for a kiss. It's easy to feel the full extent of her luck that this can be a regular thing with Arthur, something to share and indulge in with her in their moments together. It's just as easy to forget in these moments that this isn't likely to be her life forever.

Arthur, in a bout of eagerness, moves to straddle Merlin. "May I?" she asks, reaching for the buttons on Merlin's pyjama top.

"You may." Merlin grins and kisses her deeply. Once Arthur's got about half of the buttons undone, Merlin's phone starts to ring. They pause for a moment and then resume. Certainly it's nothing important, and there's those moments of silence affirming just that immediately after. Arthur's just undone the last button when the phone rings again and this time, Merlin gently nudges her aside.

"Sorry," she apologizes, scrambling for her phone on the nightstand. "I just keep imagining Uncle Gaius laying on the floor." She clears her throat and then answers. "Hello?"

"I was hoping you weren't ignoring my calls, Merlin," Nimueh chimes in, offering nothing in the way of a proper greeting.

"I was not. It's the morning, I was waking up." She glances over at Arthur, who is now sat on the edge of the bed.

"Well, there's an event that I thought you should know about."

"That important that you called this early in the morning?"

"We're planning a rally and everyone's agreed that you need to speak. There's a meeting tomorrow night to discuss. Are you available?"

"Yes, I'm available tomorrow night. I'll be there. You can text me the details."

"Excellent." Merlin can hear the smirk on the phone, which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't happen at the same moment she felt Arthur move off of the bed.

"Please don't call me in the morning again, unless it's an emergency."

"This is always the most important."

She hangs up without any further ado and puts her phone aside. She does pull the top off, but only to change into her clothes for the morning. Arthur's already gone into the bathroom and is clearly done with her more amorous attempts from only moments earlier. Merlin will have to press her luck some other time, then. For today, she's more than happy with everything she's had so far.

Merlin arrives late to the meeting that next night. She had to take the tube after work and there were some delays on her way. Rather than look too conspicuous, she slips in and seats herself in a seat near the back. When she turns to her left, she's greeted with the sight of Morgana of all people.

It's hard for her to keep her composure through most of the meeting, when they discuss the issues at the crux of their meeting. It becomes even more difficult when Nimueh and some others start talking about their mistrust and hatred of the monarchy. This always sits uneasily with Merlin, but she knows where this idea comes from and cannot dismiss it. She certainly holds no love for the current monarch, even with her close relationship to the future ruler. Morgana, though, was raised by Uther.

After the meeting, Merlin can't help but pull her aside. "Can we discuss what you're doing here?"

"Attending a meeting, I think." Morgana offers a sweet smile. "I'm allowed to have any political views I like. My half sister Morgause goes to these meetings, as you know."

"I do know." That's the problem, Morgause is one of the more radical thinkers in the party, who wants to uproot the monarchy without hesitation and create a whole new system.

"I'm not doing anything publicly. I respect Arthur too much to do that and I know that's what you're actually concerned about."

Merlin gawks at her for a few moments. "Arthur is one of my closest friends, yes. And I know she's one of yours as well."

"Almost like my sister," she answers slyly. The word sister hangs venomously on her lips.

"Whatever the truth is, you know it's not Arthur's fault. She can't help Uther's choices."

Morgana shakes her head. "We know the truth. Everyone knows the truth. It was just the final thing I needed to prove that Uther has no heart."

"I'm sorry, Morgana. I don't know what it's like for you, I...I'm sorry." She squeezes her hand gently. Morgana had a good father, a good man, and lived with that memory. Then she had that ripped away by discovering that the man she resented her whole life to begin with was actually her father. "We should go someplace, have a drink. Talk about this like grownups."

The next moment, she's interrupted by Morgause stepping forward. Morgause has the intensity of Nimueh but it's bolder, more apparent, and more refined. It's clear from the way she talks and moves that she's got a "Lady" title, even if she refuses to use it.

"I'd love to, Merlin," Morgana answers. "But my sister and I have plans. Some other time, for sure?"

"Of course." Merlin smiles at her, then gives Morgause a tight lipped smile, which is returned by a look equally as impolite. "Morgause, it's nice to see you as always."

"Please spare the pleasantries, Miss Emrys. We're all here for the mutual cause, not to be best friends." Morgause steps away. "Come along, sister."

"I'll call you," Morgana says, linking arms with her sister.

If Merlin was braver, she'd remind Morgana that she does, in fact, have another half sister. But Merlin is not brave in that moment and she also knows that some ties are stronger than the ties of family. Some family ties are rubbish.

The rally isn't anything out of the ordinary. Merlin attends these regularly enough, usually standing towards the back, trying to listen, to process the words of the people around here. This time, though, she's called to the front, she's encouraged to speak.

When she does, the words she prepared leave her and the words she feels tumble out. The things she says are not the kindest, she speaks of the foolishness of the men in charge and acts as though emphasizing men makes any difference, that it can't be misconstrued. She locks eyes with Nimueh in the crowd, and it's only the hatred of her smirk that reels her in. By then, it's too late, her speech and her mistrust of the monarchy are out in the world.

Afterwards, she goes out for drinks to celebrate at a seedy pub. She's hailed as a sort of hero in her circle, someone who is finally standing for what she's supposed to. Even in her intoxicated state, Merlin's not so sure that she's that. There's a rolling feeling in the pit of her stomach that she can't quite reconcile. She can't explain it fully, but she does have a name for it. Or a name. The same name that always seems at the tip of her tongue.

Which is precisely how it comes to little surprise that she's woken the next morning by Gwen knocking lightly at her door.

"What is it?" Merlin mumbles, turning her face into her pillow.

"Arthur's here to see you."

She shoots up almost immediately, reaching for her dressing gown. The version of Merlin that steps into the kitchen is bedheaded and half asleep, but still thoughtful enough to offer tea. Gwen gives both of them an awkward smile and then retreats to her own room. Merlin's standing by the kettle when Arthur first speaks.

"Your speech last night was...do you even know what people are saying?" She does not seat herself at the table, in fact, but remains standing.

"No, I don't, actually."

"They're saying you hate the monarchy, that you want to dismantle it piece by piece by piece."

"That's not what I meant and if you listen to that speech, you'd know that's not true."

The sigh of resignation that follows speaks more volumes than any words. "I know that, Merlin. Honestly, I do. But when people interpret it as something else, I'm a piece you want to dismantle."

She shakes her head. "No, Arthur. You're the one thing about this mess that I believe in. But I've told you already I'm not going to stop criticizing your father. Or the system."

"Do you know how difficult it is already to explain to my father that I'm friends with you still?"

"Well if it was such a burden to be my friend, why did you bother?" Merlin takes the kettle, pouring two cups of tea, regardless of whether the water is properly boiled or not.

"That's not what I mean, Merlin. It's not a burden to be around you, but my father is..."

"Not a fan of me or people like me. I won't hold you responsible for his errors, but that does not mean I can't hold him responsible."

"I can't make the changes I want to make if the public thinks you're at my throat."

It may be easy enough to make some comment about being at her throat, to turn this into an opportunity for kissing and laughter. If whatever they're doing is temporary, it might even be the best thing, but Merlin's willing to take the risk. This can't last if they keep up the misunderstandings.

"I got carried away last night. I can't guarantee that I'll never say anything that reflects poorly on you, but I will try to help you be better, be who you want to be."

"Who I want to be or who you need me to be?" Arthur crosses her arms.

Maybe that's the crux of it, then. Has Merlin idealized Arthur so much that she can't see the truth in front of her? She could give the short answer, could tell Arthur what she wants, but she honestly wants to think it through.

"I don't know, honestly."

Arthur looks angry and a bit sad as she heads for the door. "I'm leaving for Scotland in a few hours, why don't you take the next few days to think about that? And I will too."

**Nineteen**

When Merlin first met Freya, there was something so familiar about her. She was another young woman from England looking to see the world, to explore, but there was something that always held her back. It would be poetic to describe mental illness as a darkness but that's not true. Freya was light, or she wanted to be light. After meeting Freya, Merlin realized just how sheltered her life had been so far.

"I didn't feel there was a place for me back home," Freya explains. They're seated at a cafe in New York. "The magical community is so disjointed and the mainstream community is so...I mean look at the way they uphold the royal family. And if you want to be true to the Druid lifestyle, you cut yourself off so much." She smiles awkwardly.

Merlin looks up from her chai latte and debates letting the subject drop. It would be easiest that way, she could be someone new with Freya, not her father's daughter, not heiress to God knows what legacy.

"I was raised alongside the crown princess," she admits, because if she's going for it, she's going for the core of the issue. "I don't know if you remember the tabloid headlines about the royal charity case but, well, that's me."

A realization dawns on Freya's face and she reaches for Merlin's hand. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I didn't realize. I didn't mean to offend you."

She snorts. "It's no offense. I don't hold the royal family in any particular regard."

"So then what is she like, our blonde darling?" There's a lilt in Freya's voice that comes out just in moments like these. She's a sharp, bright woman and that's why Merlin can see herself loving her.

"Currently? I don't know. I haven't talked to Arthur in three years. She's..." It would be so easy to be unfavorable here. "Surprisingly kind. A bit naturally arrogant and full of herself, but she outgrew that year to year and I think she wants to be better than her father is."

"Most anyone would be better than Uther is."

"Can we maybe talk of something else?" Merlin lifts her drink to her lips, taking a sip. She's taken this path for herself, but avoiding Arthur and talking about her is one of the perks. "I don't want to talk about my life back home when enjoying my day."

Freya nods and the look on her face is bashful. "What I was just saying is I didn't feel like there was a place for me back home, but I don't know if there's a place for me here either, you know? A part of me will always be in England. I can't escape that."

Merlin recognises something in Freya's eyes, she sees Morgana confessing her magic, she sees the memories, however faint, of her father. She wonders if anyone's ever seen that look in her own eyes. It's staring across the table at Freya that Merlin understands. She can run for a few years, she can keep running, but one day she's going to come back and fix this injustice.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: this chapter and the following chapter include allusions to acts of terrorism- nothing directly impacting the characters

With Arthur gone to Scotland, Merlin does take time to reflect on what she wants from Arthur. It's a weird thing to acknowledge, what she expects from that friendship, from that connection. She's been helping Arthur, or acting like she was helping Arthur. But what if she's got an agenda for Arthur, the same as Arthur's father, the same as everyone else in Arthur's life? Does she believe in who Arthur is or who she would like to believe that Arthur is? There's no easy answer to this.

The truth is, Arthur hasn't ever really told her who she's trying to be. For all of her life, Merlin's been left to assume. Maybe Arthur's been indecisive, or maybe she's been afraid to share. There's no way to tell for certain without continuing this openness. If she's allowed to continue at all, that is. That's what she'd like most of all.

She accepts that she has to let life happen as it does and doesn't try to reach out to Arthur in the meanwhile. Merlin's turning in for the night and just changed into her night clothes for an early Sunday in when there's a knock. At first she assumes it's Gwaine, who's gone out to meet friends, coming back for a wallet or keys or something they've forgotten. When she does answer the door, it's Arthur standing there, holding a tin of shortbreads.

"Can I come in?" she asks, passing the tin to Merlin. She doesn't really give her the time to answer before stepping in.

"Did you literally just come back from Scotland?" Merlin asks, taking the tin to the kitchen counter. "This is a bit of a surprise. I would have put on trousers, at least, if I knew you would show up." She's wearing one of Gwaine's t-shirts that she's commandeered and a very short pair of pyjama bottoms.

"I just wanted to see you. We didn't leave things so well when I saw you last."

Merlin turns to her and bites her lip. "We didn't. I've realized since that I've never, not once, asked you who you want to be, so it's not right of me to have expectations and be disappointed in an answer I'm just assuming."

"I want to be kinder," Arthur blurts. "Than my father, than I have been. I want to be strong and I want you to be proud of me. I want to prove that girl wrong, the girl who left my room at sixteen years old, and who I didn't see again until now. There's no need for her to run, but I understand why you ran and I'm sorry for that."

"I am proud of you. No matter what I was going to be proud of you, Arthur. I knew you were never going to be exactly like your father."

Arthur shakes her head. "I'm not dense. I know what he's doing, what he's been doing is wrong. I also know that getting myself disinherited is not the way to solve this problem, but I'll do everything I can to help your cause."

"Thank you." Merlin strides further and holds out her hand for Arthur.

The expression on Arthur's face turns to hurt, but she takes her hand anyway and shakes it. Merlin steps closer then, which softens the expression. 

"Is your driver outside?" Merlin asks as she withdraws her hand.

"He's driving a circle around the block until I tell him to leave."

"Tell him to leave?"

"Erm." Arthur glances down. "Either with me in the car or not. That's presumptive of me I realize."

"Arthur, it's alright. You can stay if you want. I don't know if any of my sleep things that aren't Gwaine's will fit you, though."

"Well, I didn't say that I needed something to sleep in."

"Are you coming on to me, Arthur?" Merlin smirks. "That's very forward of you."

"Well, before you got called away a week ago, we'd gotten rather cosy in the morning."

"I think I might remember something." She steps even closer, wrapping her arms around Arthur's waist. "Are you sure?"

Arthur leans in, pressing her lips against Merlin's for a kiss. "I'm certain." 

Merlin melts briefly into the kiss, enjoying the sensation for a few moments, before she realizes she's gently been lifted off the ground. "What are you doing, Princess?"

"I'm showing off how strong I am." She grins at her. "Now if you'll direct me to your bedroom..."

"Down the hall, second room. Not that Gwaine would be opposed to us shagging in their room, but I'd prefer to get to mine first."

Merlin puts her arms around Arthur's neck as she carries her into the bedroom. She can't help but bury her face in her neck and laugh. They manage to step successfully over the dirty laundry that Merlin's amassed on the floor and make it to the bed, which is unmade but at least it doesn't also have the usual pyjamas lying on top.

She's unapologetically plopped onto the bed a moment later before Arthur joins her on the bed. Merlin pulls her in for a kiss, carefully sliding a hand to her lower back. "I think it's time to take a few layers of your clothes off."

Arthur is most definitely still wearing a blazer, which is an absolute tragedy but at least it's easy enough to remove. Merlin has to sit up, though, to work her way down Arthur's shirt buttons, making sure to be careful even in her haste.

"I don't know how fair this is when you have a top on still..." Arthur teases, leaning forward for a kiss, but Merlin gently shoves her away.

Merlin's response is to lift her shirt, flashing her briefly. "I'm not wearing a bra, so it's fair."

"Fairness is really objective in circumstances like this." Arthur snakes an arm around her, only to grip the hem of the shirt and slowly pull it back up. Merlin obliges by lifting her arms to remove the shirt. They both lean in for another kiss and Arthur's hand moves to Merlin's neck before tracing a path downwards to her chest, cupping her breast gently.

"Let's get your bra off, at least."

In response to that, Arthur pinches her nipple gently and nudges her to lay on her back. "I'm much more interested in getting those bottoms off of you."

"Take your trousers off first and then I'll be as naked as you like."

Arthur does finally take that cue to move off of the bed, just long enough to shuck her trousers. She fumbles for a few moments with her bra, trying not to look so awkward. She turns and tosses the bra at Merlin, depriving her of the first glance. Even with the moment to anticipate, Merlin finds herself blushing.

"They're breasts, I believe you have two of them on your chest." Arthur crawls back onto the bed, straddling her before she leans down to flick a tongue against her nipple. "Ah yes, right here, in fact."

She was focused on the glance downwards, of Arthur's full breasts, of the clear lines of muscle on her torso accentuated by the softness of her stomach, but that pulls her back into the moment. "Very astute observation, Arthur."

"There are a few things I can observe further, if you'd prefer." Arthur slides a hand down her front, slipping them into the front of her pyjama bottoms. "This alright?"

As soon as Merlin's nodded her consent, Arthur's cupped her mound, sliding a finger gently further. She brushes against her clit, then rubs harder. Merlin's lips part in a soft gasp as her eyes slide closed, taking a few moments to revel in the touch. This is Arthur touching her like this, wanting to be closer to her. She grips onto her tightly when she feels two fingers slide into her. Arthur thrusts the fingers slowly, using her thumb to continue to circle her clit as best as she can. It's sloppy and uncoordinated, but when Merlin comes undone, she wonders how she's gone so long without this.

"Time to take the bottoms off," Merlin huffs. She regrets the absence of Arthur's body and hands almost immediately, but is soon appeased when Arthur not only pulls off her bottoms, but tugs off her own knickers. "Arthur, you're...you're so very beautiful."

The response to that statement is a very enthusiastic, heated kiss when Arthur returns to the bed. It takes some restraint to not continue kissing all night and to push Arthur gently on her back. Kissing down her body, touching every inch of Arthur she can get her hands on, that feels like the only thing worth missing out on the chance to kiss her. The opportunity she has after to taste and touch and bring Arthur pleasure proves to be the only thing she likes as much as the kissing.

The sound of her alarm is thankfully enough to wake Merlin from a deep sleep. She's briefly confused as to why her double bed feels more cramped than usual, but then she realizes that Arthur's not only in the bed, but draped half across her. When she moves, Arthur lets out a grunt showing disapproval.

"I've got work today," she mumbles, gently lifting Arthur's arm off of her midsection. "This'll teach you to seduce women on Sunday evenings."

"I didn't hear you complaining about work last night."

Merlin laughs. "I think after you've done what we were doing for the third time, your brain goes a bit hazy." She stretches when she stands, taking the chance to glance down at Arthur in her bed. "I might have a shirt or two that'll fit you, if you need to borrow something.”

Arthur sits up then, suppressing a yawn. "I'll have my car sent for right away, it's not necessary, but thank you."

They're interrupted then by the sound that can only be described as Gwaine singing in the kitchen, and they both freeze.

"Gwaine doesn't know about us," Merlin states. "You stay here while I shower, you don't want to deal with that mess alone. I'll uh. I'll tell them I have a lady guest and that we want some alone time for breakfast, I guess?"

"Well the way I see it we have two options." Arthur glances at Merlin appreciatively. "Either you call in sick, come back to bed, and we can worry about leaving when everyone's gone. Or I can go out there, have a cup of tea, eat some toast, and assume that your flatmates not only have heard us already, but don't have any intention of telling a single soul about us."

"Yeah, that works too. I'll just- go get that shower."

Merlin's impressed by how easily Arthur trusts the people that she trusts. She leans down for a kiss before pulling on her dressing gown and making her way to the bathroom. Generally, on a morning after a night like she had, she'll take time to savor the shower, to enjoy the last remnants of the afterglow. Today, though, she's focused on showering and dressing and reading Gwaine and Gwen's reactions.

When she steps into the kitchen in her work clothes, Arthur's seated across from Gwen, nursing a cup of tea. Gwaine peers over at her from their phone, giving a look that can only be described as proud.

"When did you two get home last night?" Merlin asks bashfully. She slides into the remaining empty seat.

"Around midnight," Gwaine chimes in.

"I never left," Gwen adds. She bites her lip to try to keep a straight face, but ends up laughing.  
"I'm really sorry about that, Gwen. I'm the rudest flatmate in the world."

"It's alright, it's alright." She holds up her hands. "You can buy my silence by doing my laundry for two weeks, or by taking me for a very nice dinner later this week, it's your choice."

"I can manage that."

"I expect two nice dinners," Gwaine interjects. "Because I can set whatever price I like, can't I?"

Arthur sort of gawks between them. The closest thing she has to a friend, present company excluded, who doesn't simper around her is Leon. It's always been this way. But Merlin's friends...they're teasing and she trusts them on their silence. "I should go. Thank you for the tea, Gwen. I'm supposed to have brunch with my father today."

Merlin's disappointed that she's leaving so soon, but she's also aware she has work herself before too long. She stands along with Arthur to walk her to the door.

"When can I see you again?" Merlin asks, feeling bolder than usual.

"I'm busy these next few days. But I'd like to see you again before the weekend, if you've got the time."

"I think I can find the time for you."

"You think?"

"Goodbye, Arthur. I've got to finish getting ready for work." Merlin smirks and turns back into the apartment. She's certain she'll have time for Arthur in a few days, no matter what.

_Twenty_  
There's only one instance where Merlin almost breaks and calls Arthur, writes Arthur. Does anything to make a change. It's late at night in Freya's very tiny apartment. There is a news report that they couldn't miss, a story about a violent attack done against magicals one early morning in England, against people like herself and Freya.

For Merlin's part, she’s cried half the night and made an effort to contact anyone should could imagine. With Freya it is different. She went quiet and after sitting in shellshock, climbed into bed. Merlin paces about the room until she was certain that Freya was sleeping, then steps outside, feeling too restless to care that she was wandering around so late at night. It was a loud night, everything blaring as loud as sirens or as loud as the sound of blood pumping in her ears.  
By sunrise, she finds herself sat on a bench, reading through news articles and writing up a letter to Arthur in her head. She would tell her how it was the hate of her father that brought this, how the people feel things because they're told they're alright. These people wouldn't be suffering if they were protected, if they were treated like human beings and not something lesser than.

Her thoughts stutter, though, as she glances over a picture of Arthur. She's at a podium, giving some sort of speech, she looks exhausted and there's that hollow sorrow hanging around her face. The same shellshock that she saw in Freya only a few hours past. What would dredging up her past and shoving a bunch of things in Arthur's face do for her, precisely? It would only lead to hurt.

Instead, Merlin realizes that for her, change must be achieved through kindness. But kindness doesn't overrule righteous anger, or firmness of character. In fact, it's better for co-existing with those things.


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin doesn't hear from Arthur for two days, which would normally make her worry, but it's not unheard of for Arthur to have these silences. Arthur will say it's because she's busy, but Merlin's seen Arthur around enough boys during their school days to know that deep down, Arthur's actually a bit shy once she's actually with someone. Flirting is easy enough, it's mostly false confidence and the right amount of swagger, it's being with someone that can be a challenge.

The first communication is just a text that reads:

_You didn't kiss me goodbye when I left the other day._

Merlin's immediately doing that absurd thing where she's smiling at her phone in public.

_well what r u gonna do about that?_

_Kiss you hello when you come over for dinner tonight._

_im coming for dinner 2nite?_

_If you have no other plans._

_Hope u kno how 2 cook veg ;)_

_I'm not cooking anything, actually. I was going to order in._

_Do princesses order in???_

_We still love pizza the same as everyone else._

Sure enough, when Merlin arrives at her flat, there's some pizza boxes from one of the most expensive pizza places in Central London. Around the pizza boxes are some haphazardly placed, but very expensive candles and an even more expensive bottle of red wine.

"I'm being romanced," she says, carefully removing her flats. Arthur's presented the dinner, pizza and all with a flourish.

"I thought about ordering in a few dozen roses but that seemed moderately excessive at this point in the relationship."

Merlin bites her lip to keep from commenting that she's not sure if it's acceptable at any point in a relationship. That'll do her no good, and keep her from getting a very expensive gift now and then.

"Just so we're clear here- your security personnel or anyone who comes here, they know that we're...involved, correct?"

Arthur nods. "Yes, and they've no need or desire to tell anyone, same as your friends."

There's something so strange about being a secret and yet not sneaking around all at once. Merlin thinks maybe she should take issue with this, but she knows Arthur's motives and would not have gotten involved with her if she'd thought it would be an issue. Everything in its own time.

Besides, it's not as though she thinks this thing with Arthur will be forever. They're young and they've got their entire lives ahead of them. It's best for Arthur to find someone who is a bit more willing to be involved in politics for a variety of issues. It's best for Merlin to...well, she hasn't really allowed herself to dwell on that. She wants to change the world, and she can't do it alone. Her chest feels tight when she looks at the woman across from her, when she realizes that this is the person she wants to change the world with. And if she can't change the world with her, she'll do everything she can to help Arthur make the right decisions.

"I think we should eat on the couch, if you don't mind. Unless your couch is too expensive to be eaten on?"

Arthur laughs and they end up carrying everything out, the candles and the pizza boxes and two glasses of wine, to the living room. Merlin puts on the telly and then pretend to watch BBC and make small talk as they eat. After dinner, they clear the boxes and end up cuddling on the couch. (If Merlin had, at any point in her life previously, thought she'd be cuddling with Arthur, she thinks she'd die of shock.)

The cuddling, soon enough, ends up with Arthur's hand snaked up her shirt and her own hand dangerously high on Arthur's thigh as they snog in earnest. In some ways Merlin wonders if they're making up for lost time, for people they could have been years ago. In other ways, she thinks that they couldn't have been like this without waiting until they were old enough to try to understand each other. Regardless, the walk up the stairs to Arthur's bedroom feels like it takes decades too long.

When Merlin wakes, everything's dipped in bluish hues which means it's probably far too early to be awake in the first place. She can't sleep any longer and instead sits up in bed. Arthur's curled on her side, facing her, with a mass of blonde hair hanging over her face. She's snoring ever so softly and there's such a peace about it. The urge to just watch her, just for a few long moments, is overwhelming, but Merlin resists, instead grabbing for her phone on the nightstand.

  
There's dozens of texts she must have missed- of course her phone is on silent. Nimueh. Morgana. Morgause. Then a final one, the most recent text from Freya.

_Are you alright there in London? It's just awful what's happened. Let me know you're safe._

Before she can file through the texts, she's out of bed, rushing down to the living room to turn on the TV. An attack on a building in a known druid neighborhood, the only neighborhood any druids felt safe in the entirety of central London. Three dead and while that number feels so small, each of them could be a friend, each of them could be her. The tears come involuntarily, she's always cried easily and freely. Her mother had said to not lose this, to never become numb to feeling, but she wishes she could turn it off. She shakes as she cries, trying to hold it in.

"Merlin?"

When she turns, every light in the flat flickers on and then abruptly back off again. It's only Arthur, she is not the danger. Merlin does not answer there. She must look a fright, sitting on the couch in only Arthur's nightshirt, shaking and crying. Arthur's focus is off of her only long enough to catch sight of what's on the screen and then she steps over to her and to the couch, pulling her into her arms. It's warm, it's comforting, but it's still not enough. She cries harder, holding onto Arthur's dressing gown as she does. There's a darkness in this world that Merlin, despite all of her powers, despite all of the love she feels, cannot stop.

When Arthur does finally manage to get her back to bed, it's the time she should be getting out of bed for the day. She climbs back under the covers and gives Arthur an expectant look, but she shakes her head.

"You need to sleep too, Arthur," Merlin insists, patting the spot beside her.

"I need to make sure my father says as little as possible to cock this up further." Arthur leans in to kiss her. "I've texted Morgana to come and take you for lunch when the time comes. Morgana doesn't know about...this, but you can tell her as much or as little as you want. I trust her."

Merlin dimly watches Arthur get ready for the day before succumbing to sleep and she manages a few more hours before waking to the alarm. She's forced to make do with what she has for clothing, borrowing one of Arthur's more basic button-ups and pulling on her things from the night prior. She waits for Morgana by lounging about on the couch, trying to find some mindless telly to watch in the meanwhile, anything to get her mind off of the reality of the situation.

Morgana arrives promptly at noon to usher Merlin to lunch. She takes her to a relatively unpretentious place and they eat sandwiches in a corner of the restaurant. Merlin doesn't speak through most of the meal besides to comment on the food.

"Nimueh wants you to make a statement tonight," Morgana says at length. "She says that the king has said his piece, the police have said theirs, but it's our turn to have our say."

"I don't know what there is to say, Morgana. This is a tragedy and I won't market on it or use it as a ploy. I want time to mourn."

"Someone needs to say something to get our voices heard."

"Has it ever dawned on anyone that my voice is not Nimueh's?" she exclaims, then grows very quiet. "What do they want me to say, exactly? 'This morning when I heard the news I was comforted by my lover, the Crown Princess?' God knows I can't and won't say that."

The look on Morgana's face only betrays her briefly. She didn't know, at least not for certain, until that moment. "I don't give a shit about Nimueh's voice. She's...her head is so far in some dark cloud. I care about everyone getting their voice out there. So does Morgause. So do you."

"That's the problem with this movement, we all want different things. I think if Nimueh had her way we'd be Guy Fawkesing most of the government. I want peace, whenever I can have peace."

"Then speak for your peace." Morgana reaches for her hand across the table and squeezes it. "If you could get up and speak what would you say right here and right now?"

"That I'm sad, that we've lost three people because of senseless hatred. The druids are a peaceful people who have contributed more to society than we know, and we owe them the respect that all people should have in this world. Hatred cannot win out and even if sometimes I'm so very, very tired of fighting this fight, I won't stop. I will never stop until magicals are afforded the same rights and dignities as non-magicals. Because we just want to live our lives and no one deserves to be killed simply for who they are, especially when who they are is a person who is meant to embody all that is good in this world."

"Well, Merlin." Morgana releases her hand. "Why don't you go and say just that?"

It takes only a little bit more convincing and she does.

The next day, the papers are emblazoned with headlines about her speech. Beside them, though, are articles about statements Arthur's made to the press. They're simple sentences, but they mimick what Merlin's said. The press speaks, even without knowing, about a potential harmony between the political world and the magical one.

"Did you tell Arthur to say these things?" Gwen asks over breakfast. Merlin wanted badly to go back to Arthur's the night previously, but she was too nervous to ask, instead, she went home and slept very poorly.

"No, I haven't spoken to Arthur since about 8 in the morning yesterday."

Gwen closes the newspaper and slides it across the table. "She did a good job, in my opinion. I know we don't vote for queens, but I'd vote for her." She smiles.

"I'll tell her that, I'm sure she'd be very impressed." Merlin smiles and takes the paper. She likely won't read it, but it's worth holding onto it for the posterity's sake. It's a small victory, even in the face of tragedy. "Where's Gwaine this morning?"

"Out somewhere." Gwen waves her hand dismissively. "You look exhausted, maybe you should go back to sleep for a bit?"

"I can't." She stifles a yawn. "I've got work to do. There's some open forums that I want to go to, just to hear the voices of the people, and then I've got a strategy meeting with some people who are not Nimueh."

"Not a fan of Nimueh any longer?"

"I think her attitude does not suit me in the least."

They finish breakfast and then go their separate ways. Merlin's scarcely out the door when she starts to dial. The phone rings and rings, going clear to voicemail. That's alright, it's easier this way. The voice is familiar, albeit stilted by being a recording. It's soothing.

"Hey Freya, this is Merlin. I realized I never texted you back yesterday, I'm so sorry. I am alright, you may have seen me on TV or read the articles about me. I'm doing alright. I'd love if you let me know next time you're in England, we could catch up. There's a lot I want to tell you about. I'm seeing someone, uh, rather surprising these days. I'd really love to catch up, like I said. I miss you, but I'm safe. And thank you for- I don't know. Everything you were and continue to be for me. I'm fighting this fight for you. There's this new tea-"

The voice message cuts off then and she has to be content with that. There's some peace that she hadn't thought she'd ever have for her past. She can't exactly describe it. It mostly feels like she's more ready than ever to take on whatever her future has in store for her. The next number she dials is familiar in a whole different way.

"Hello Merlin," Arthur answers. She can hear on the other line that Arthur's slipping past some people, trying to find a private space.

"I haven't heard from you since yesterday. I wanted to see that you were alright."

"A bit tired, but I'm alright. Much more worried about you."

"I'm fine, fine. Probably about the same as you. Can I see you tonight?"

"I won't get home until 8 or so. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah, of course. Can I stay over?"

"As long as you return my blue shirt that you've stolen, of course."

Merlin grins as she says her goodbye. There's still plenty of things to find joy in and she'll pursue them until they no longer want to be pursued.

She's bold enough to bring an overnight bag to Arthur's flat that evening. Bolder yet, she's slipped back into the blue shirt that Arthur insists that she returns. Hopefully Arthur gets what she's aiming for, but if not she has no problem spelling it out.

Arthur's quick to catch on, as it turns out, and kisses her as soon as she's inside, bolting the door firmly behind them. She laughs when Arthur lifts her gently off of her feet. This must be a favorite move of hers, and one she doesn't have a problem with in the least. However, it's not the most conducive towards getting upstairs. Arthur understands this very well and deposits her on the couch before moving to sit beside her.

It's only a moment later that Merlin climbs into her lap to resume the snogging. Being with Arthur could become so easy, like second nature to her. That's what she wants most in the world, if she's allowed one selfish desire. It doesn't escape her notice that Arthur's focused on removing her shirt and she can't help but laugh against her mouth before assisting with the removal and tossing it completely aside.

"That's rotten," Arthur whispers, leaning in to nip at her earlobe.

"You can't call the girl who's going to go down on you rotten." She tsks and moves away from her. "Which I can't do easily on this couch, so we should probably go upstairs."

"Floor."

Their maneuvering is clumsy and there's some elbows thrown about that shouldn't be, but a blanket and an assortment of pillows make it to to the floor. They're followed soon after by two very enthusiastic and mostly naked women. When they finish, sweaty and dizzy and parts aching, it takes all the strength they both have to climb back onto the couch and pull the blanket over them. Merlin's resting more or less on top of Arthur, giving in to the sentiment of listening to her heart beating in her chest.

It's still early enough in the night, Merlin knows. They'll make it to the bed. If she's lucky, there'll be more enthusiastic shagging, maybe with the assistance of something other than fingers or mouths. Something lazy and slow and indulgent and then she'll fall into a sated sleep. For now, she dozes with Arthur's hand carding through her hair.

As she does, she dreams of her father. (Or maybe it's memories, she's not sure.) He looks kind and sad and he's sitting with her as she learns some spells. He's teaching her how to float feathers and to make figures from smoke. More importantly, he's reminding her that magic is not good or evil. That it's up to her to bring kindness into the magic she has.

She wonders, knowing this is not the truth, if he's exactly as he was, or if she misremembers. Absence makes the heart go fonder, after all, and there is no absence greater than death. What if she's idealized her father so immensely she's gotten something wrong? What if in his death the world has made a martyr of someone who was only a man? Suddenly, in her dream, she's a grown woman and every book in the room is floating and she's scrambling to learn something, to find a final answer before he fades away.

All Balinor does is shake his head at her, give her a smile, and rest his hand on her shoulder. It's not up to her alone to save the people. This is not all on her, the same as it wasn't all on him.

"Merlin!"

She's cut out of her dream and immediately there's the soft "plop" of something hitting the ground. It's a pillow that has been floating. Immediately, she remembers that she's alone with Arthur and that was not acceptable. She sits up, frightened of what Arthur's reaction might be. She hesitates to meet her eye, but is met with an expression that's fond and amused. There's no anger or confusion or hatred there.

"You were making pillows float," Arthur explains. "Really a vast improvement from when you were a girl and would knock books down to annoy me."

She laughs and runs a hand through her hair. "I was dreaming of using magic, that usually only happens with very low grade magic, so don't worry. I won't make you float or anything."

Arthur sits up and stretches. "Don't suppose you can float both of us to my bed?"

"Sadly, no." She stands and holds out a hand to Arthur, getting the hint. Arthur stands after her, pulling her in for an embrace.

"Speaking of magic, there's something I've been wondering."

"Hmm?"

"Would you introduce me to your druid friends?"


	9. Chapter 9

It's hard to fathom how Arthur managed to sneak away like this. From what Merlin had heard from Percy, Arthur shut herself up in her father's office for an hour long argument, but emerged victorious with the promise of being left alone for a few days. The only stipulation was that her security detail would have to be with her at all times. As a buffer in case they were spotted, Merlin had also invited Gwen and Gwaine along and Morgana, well, she just appeared all on her own. Rather than the usual train ride, it's just a short car ride to the druid village.

All the same, as soon as she's arrived, she's greeted by a very enthusiastic adolescent dragon, cooing and eager to see her dearest friend. It takes a few moments to calm Aithusa down, and to stop from grinning too broadly to even speak.

"Arthur, Morgana, you remember Aithusa." Merlin gestures. "Gwaine, Gwen, Percy, this is Aithusa. She's my dragon. Well, technically dragons belong to no one, but I raised her from the moment she hatched."

"She used to use Aithusa to frighten me," Arthur says, raising a brow. "When she was an awful girl."

Merlin takes a few moments to focus on reconnecting with her old friend, to make sure everything's going well and that she's content and well fed. It won't be too long until she's too large to even need a minder, which only reminds her. She glances up and catches sight of the boy lurking not far away. She strides to him, bringing him forward.

"This is Percy, Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, and of course, the Princess Arthur," Merlin introduces. "And this," she turns towards her friends. "Is Mordred. He's like a little brother to me, and one of the most skilled Magicals I've ever met."

Gwaine outright laughs at the way the boy's face falls when he's compared to a brother, but soon collects theirself to be the first to shake the boy's hand warmly. Mordred is taken aback before he shakes everyone's hand gladly, save for Arthur's. He stands awkwardly in front of her, until she outright insists that he takes her hand and shakes it.

"Can you show us around a bit, then?" Arthur asks, glancing over at Merlin.

Mordred leads the village tour, talking excitedly as he walks through. It's small enough, but full of little nooks and spaces that seem to mean something more to him. Aithusa darts from Mordred to Merlin and back time and time again, occasionally going up to a familiar face and begging for scraps or a pat on the top of her head.

Frequently, someone will pop out of a shop window or their home to greet Merlin with a handshake or even an embrace. Merlin returns the warmth in kind, it's a genuine and sweet thing. If she could find the same thrum, the same wonderful chaos of London in this place, she doubts she'd be able to ever leave. Each person is part of what makes the place a home and she will never fully understand the sense of community. Her friends end up gaping each time someone comes forward, asking for a small trick for their son or thanking her for something she can't quite understand.

"Merlin's a big deal to Magicals," Morgana explains, as though it's that simple. "Her father was the last known Dragon Lord, in case she hasn't told you."

"Merls doesn't talk about her father very often," Gwaine answers. "Or at all, really. But that explains the pet dragon."

Merlin tries to ignore the talk, continuing to enjoy being around kindred spirits and hopefully helping Arthur understand better. She spots Iseldir across a street and crosses ahead of the others but before she can speak, she's frozen by glancing at a familiar face.

"Freya." She takes a step back. Of course, Freya's a Magical as much as anyone here. It's natural that she'd want to be with her community in a time like this.

"Merlin. I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you." She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. It's longer than Merlin remembers it being. "I was actually traveling here, I've been very busy."

"It's fine, honestly. I'm just glad that you're alright."

The others join them in the next moment. Arthur immediately turns a shade paler but goes through the introductions civilly. Of course she's seen photographs and heard a few stories. Merlin makes it apparent, however, that the more important introduction is Iseldir, who she introduces as a sort of leader of the druids.

"You're the princess who has been making all of these fine speeches." He doesn't quite smile, even though it's clear from the tone of his voice that he should be. "I think I've got some words I'd like to say to you, if you're willing to listen."

"I'm here to listen." Arthur holds out her hands, showing her empty palms. "I'm here to understand. I want to hear."

"First, we'll eat. No one can understand without nourishment."

They stay with the druids for two nights. Between the three of them, Merlin, Arthur, and Iseldir, they spend several hours shut up, talking about things that may or may not have to do with policy. Sometimes they all sit around, listening to someone teach or speak. It's not lost on Merlin how wrapped up in these conversations Morgana becomes, or how wide her eyes go when she sees a simple spell. When Merlin catches her casting the spell moments later, she only winks at her and goes off to find Freya.

Reconnecting with Freya is a whole other surprise. Sometimes, she can't exactly remember why she ended things with her, they mesh so well. But they want different lives and ultimately, Merlin knows her feelings have shifted and changed in a way that she can't undo even if she wanted to. The fact is, she doesn't want to undo or change anything she feels.

On the second day, they find themselves alone; so they walk. Merlin shows Freya her favourite meadow and lays in the grass. They both laugh as Aithusa attempts to wedge herself between them.

"I've missed you, Merlin," Freya says softly, rolling over to lay on her stomach. "It's hard to believe it's only been what...a year since I've seen you last? It feels like an eternity."

"I've missed you as well." Merlin stares up at the sky.

"London suits you, I think. The haircut is very charming."

The words she says are light, but Merlin knows that if she looked over, she'd see a sadness in Freya's eyes. "Thank you."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

Merlin feels the colour rise to her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, that's untoward of me." Freya looks away for a moment. "Is this thing between you and the princess new or-"

Merlin sits up completely, wrapping her arms around her knees. "I didn't mean to deceive you when we were together. I mean- we, Arthur and I, were not together romantically, don't get me wrong, but I cared about her very deeply as a teenager. And then when I came back here, things were different. Or maybe I was different."

"I won't pretend to suddenly support the royal family or what they stand for, but I trust you and your judgment."

They can't speak any further before Iseldir and Arthur approach them. Merlin's filled with a desire to kiss Arthur in that moment. Maybe it's an insecurity but she doesn't question it. It's so natural for her at this point.

"Can I speak with you alone, Merlin?" Iseldir asks, offering her a hand to stand. "Just on the walk back."

She glances between Freya and Arthur. There are probably more opposite people who could be forced to spend time together. They walk ahead, the others giving them time to move forward.

"Princess Arthur is not perfect, as a ruler or as a person," Iseldir begins. "But I can see the improvements by the moment now that your moral dilemma has improved."

"I'd always known that she has it in her to be this person, I'm just glad something happened to make her finally take the initiative."

"Something?"

"I'll gladly take credit if that's what you're suggesting. I get so little credit these days, everyone wants to take credit for things I say and do."

"Be wary of who is taking credit, Merlin. There's people you keep close to you that I trust less than I trust even Uther. At least with Uther we see his hatred for what it is."

"I don't trust Nimueh, if that's who you mean. But the fact is that she's an important part of the movement and the Unified Magical Party and can't be detached from it."

"You're right, of course." They stop then, waiting for Arthur and Freya to catch up. "I just hope young Mordred is not too put out when you announce your relationship with the princess."

"I'm not- I mean I am but-" she stammers. "I don't expect anything from her. From it. I just want to help her become the leader we know she can be and if that's all I can be to her, I'll take it gladly. It's my destiny."

"It's your destiny to have leaves in your hair," Arthur cuts in as she approaches. "Honestly what are we going to do with you?"

She leans down slightly so that Arthur can bat the leaves from her head. The urge to kiss her only grows, but still Merlin resists.

 

After dinner, a rather lengthy affair at a local restaurant, they sit and talk for some time at the table, sharing wine and desserts. The other patrons left some time ago and it's only when the workers seem to be impatient to get home that everyone decides it's time to leave. In truth, they could talk through the night, new friends and old, about everything under the sun.

Instead, they leave as a cluster to the Bed & Breakfast that was kind enough to house them discreetly for the two nights. Each of them was given their own room, though it's not lost on anyone when Gwaine heads up to bed and turns towards Percy's room instead. What they do with their time is no one else's business and if Gwaine wants to talk about it, they will. It's not as though Merlin's in a relationship that she's publicizing to the world at large. It does, in a way, feel odd to retire to separate rooms when everyone in the group knows she's involved with Arthur, but it's all about saving face. Just in case.

The night before, they were thoroughly exhausted and Merlin was fast asleep the moment she slipped into bed. Now, Merlin indulges in some reading before bed, reading through a book on herbs that she'd bought at a local shop earlier that afternoon. Only a few minutes in there's a knock on her door, followed by Arthur stepping in. Without looking away from her book she lifts her arm, letting Arthur slip under it and under the covers to rest her head on her chest.

"What're you reading about?" Arthur glances up at her.

"Magical and medicinal herbs." She finishes a page then and feels comfortable enough to put the book down. With her hands free, she brushes Arthur's hair away from her face.

"Sounds like a treat. You don't have to stop reading it for my sake."

"I do, because I know you and you'll sit still for about five minutes and then you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"That might be treason to speak of your princess like that."

"Don't think that'd stand up in a court," she hums and continues to play with Arthur's hair.

Arthur smiles at her, relaxing into the touches. "Freya seems very nice."

"Of all the people you've met, you pulled out Freya?" Merlin's tone remains light but challenging as she speaks.

"Everyone else seems nice, too, but I didn't know they specifically existed before I came here."

"I didn't think I mentioned Freya very often."

"You don't. But you have pictures of her in your room and on your phone. A girl can put two and two together every now and then, despite what you think of my maths skills. I can't imagine you ending your relationship poorly, but you don't really mention it."

There's about a dozen ways Merlin could respond. She could go to sleep, she could change the subject, she could lie, she could deflect or tell the truth or distract Arthur. The truth is, she doesn't have any great, grand reason why it ended and there's no reason to hide that truth.

"Some relationships aren't meant to last forever, even if you care very deeply for the other person."

Regret immediately overtakes her when she catches the glimmer of hurt in Arthur's eyes. It's probably not the best answer, but it's the most honest and authentic one. Her time with Freya is no less important because it ended and she only hopes that someday that may be true of Arthur and herself. Still, that look speaks volumes and it goes straight to the pit of Merlin's stomach. For the first time, she puts a name on the feeling she's been cherishing there. Every time she feels it blossom across her chest, she'll be able to give it the appropriate four letter definition.  
Thankfully, she's saved from having to say anything further by Arthur's hand sliding up her shirt. The five minute estimate she gave was very generous it seems. As Arthur's hand moves farther up, rubbing at Merlin's breast, the rest of her slides down the bed, taking Merlin's pyjama bottoms with her.

Merlin instinctively spreads her legs to give Arthur more space. Doing this with Arthur is still very new to her, but she's already learning what Arthur likes. For instance, Arthur likes to start out by focusing on her chest. Or Arthur will focus on her partner's pleasure first unless Merlin explicitly takes the reins. Or, as she's relearning at that moment, despite being relatively unpracticed with women, Arthur is very eager and enthusiastic when she uses her mouth on someone.

To a degree, Merlin feels the honour of having one of the most powerful women in the world between her legs. Mostly she feels lucky to have Arthur in her life, regardless of anything else that Arthur is or isn't. When she feels her release approaching, she grips onto the sheets, giving out a groan of pleasure. There's a moment that she acknowledges that the walls are thin and someone might hear, but she lets the noises come, she lets Arthur know how much she appreciates her.

Arthur grins up at her when she's done. "Honestly I've been looking forward to doing that all day." She moves back up Merlin's body for a kiss, a lingering, sweet kiss. Within moments, Merlin's tugging at the hem of her nightgown, insisting she pulls it over her head. She takes her breasts in her hands, gently massaging and tugging at her nipples.

She takes one in her mouth, sucking gently, then moving away to place a kiss on it. With a smirk, she settles back down so she's laying back again. "I'm about to say something that there's no way to make sound sweet or romantic."

Another thing she's learned about Arthur is that she's both shy about dirty talk and turned on by it.

"What's that?"

"Sit on my face."

A blush spreads to Arthur's face and she starts to giggle all at once. They both have a laugh, in fact, moving into position. It's awkward at first, with Arthur worrying she'll hurt Merlin and with Merlin trying to tell Arthur what to do to make sure she doesn't, but when they manage the results are well worth it. Arthur's enthusiasm for receiving, while she'll never own up to it, is just as intense as it is for giving. Merlin focuses all of her energy on the pinprick sentiment of giving Arthur pleasure. The reward, the soft gasps leading to her name being expelled, not quite a shout, but still firm and hanging in the air, is more than worth it.

They both wash themselves with a flannel afterwards and Merlin climbs back into bed, not sure if Arthur will follow. If she asks her to stay on a night when leaving is an option is that too much commitment? Will something break between them if she doesn't ask? There's a fragility in these moments that she wishes could be miles away. She remembers the hurt look on Arthur's face, then, and wants to do anything she can to prevent it from happening.

"If you stay here tonight," she begins, "I'll make sure you have a very good wake up."

Arthur grins and climbs into bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her midsection. "I wasn't aware we were done for the night."


	10. Chapter 10

Being the mostly secret lover of a member of the royal family has its own unique challenges. For instance, Merlin has to come up with increasingly elaborate reasons why she's coming from a different part of the city to places. Or she has to find ways to get to that same part of the city without any suspicion. Even more daunting, sometimes she has to attend events where Arthur will be present and pretend she's not arse over teakettle in love with her.

Still, they fall into a pattern and it works for them. Usually they'll meet at Arthur's flat, but sometimes at Merlin's. One very memorable night, they meet at a very expensive hotel. The planning and execution of it makes it seem, to their friends, that whatever they're doing is mostly physical, but more often than not they meet up and spend a few hours watching a movie or reading in silence together. It makes it even harder to put any sort of label on what they're doing that way.

Labels or not, they continue on. Leon throws another of his charity dinners and invites them both. They've contrived plans, with the help of their host, to be the last two to leave the party so they can leave together. Merlin feels very lucky to have so many caring friends, even those from Arthur's gilded world.

"I'm glad you made it, Merlin," Leon greets her, handing her a glass of wine. "That's a very lovely dress, the color suits you."

Merlin smiles at him in response. The dress was a gift from Arthur that she begrudgingly accepted. It does look uncommonly good on her and she loves the shade of royal blue. Besides, she knows she's seen it in a shop window so it can't be something too absurdly expensive. Hopefully. "And your suit is very charming as well."

"I even got a bow tie that I had to do myself, no clip on." Leon winks at her and then offers her his arm. "I'm without someone to escort this evening, would you do me the honor?"

She takes his arm. Normally she'd offer an eye roll, but Leon is a genuine and kind person. "You know this escorting ladies thing is sort of an archaic practice, right?"

He leads her towards the large dining room, which she sees many elegant people filing into. "I'm not arguing that point in the least, Merlin. The woman I've been seeing tells me the same thing all the time, but this country is so full of its need for ceremony and tradition."

"Oh? You've been seeing a woman? Is she here tonight?"

"I don't think it's a good idea to tease someone about something you can easily be teased back about."

"If you tease the woman I'm involved with, she'll make some threats to have you beheaded."

"She doesn't actually have the power to do that, especially not to me."

It's then that she catches sight of Arthur. It's hard to miss her when she's wearing the bold shade of red associated with her family. It's even less hard to miss her when she's standing next to her father. Merlin hasn't properly been in the same room as Uther for years. In fact, she's spent most of her life avoiding that possibility. If she wasn't with Leon, she might be able to at least avoid speaking to him, but naturally the king gravitates towards the host for the evening.

"Your Majesty." Leon bows, and Merlin takes the cue to follow after him.

"Leon, please. We're like family, are we not?" Uther glances between Leon and Arthur, as though that means anything at all. "And this- you are Miss Emrys, are you not? All grown up."

"I am Miss Emrys. All grown up, as you said." She can feel the eye of scrutiny on her, judging everything he can.

"You've been quite the sensation in the papers, with your alignment with the Radical Magical Movement."

"The Unified Magical Party. I've been working to help my community, and the community of this country at large, yes."

"You've grown to be very much like your father."

Merlin is fully aware that if she unpacks that statement, she can easily find a threat waiting at the bottom of it.

"I've offered to be Miss Emrys's date for the evening," Leon cuts in, hoping to change the subject. "As neither of us had someone. I think I lucked out very well in that regard."

"Very well indeed," Arthur adds. Merlin notices the way she's eyeing her up.

"I intend to make a fair share of people jealous tonight, in fact."

"But not too jealous," Merlin adds.

"No, of course not. This is only for an evening, after all." Leon turns and winks at her.

Merlin's immediately filled with the urge to wipe the smug look off of the king's face. They're not making the cryptic statements because of some great hidden thing between Leon and Arthur. But of course, Uther cannot know. No one can know until Arthur's ready for them to know, which may never come. She's not angry about that so much as the reminder that the relationship surely has an expiration date and it's just a matter of time.

She's too caught up in her own thoughts to realize that it's Uther's arm, not Leon's, that's offered to her when they move again. Her face pales and then suddenly goes red. Here she is again, a publicity stunt. The dragon tamed and docile in the face of her foe. If she pulls away a bit too abruptly in the dining room, she really doesn't care. She finds a spot to sit away from the others. If Arthur wants to talk to her, she can come over and speak to her.

It's barely a few minutes into her sulk when Arthur does just that, choosing the seat beside her and discreetly taking her hand under the table. The anger she wants to feel at the world, at Arthur, dissipates like magic. This isn't a magic she could ever learn through spells or charms but something else altogether.

Somehow, despite the setback of Uther, Merlin has a very good night. She can't stay as close throughout to Arthur as she'd like, but she has her share of moments and stolen glances. At the end of the night, no one interrupts their plan to leave together and they're both ushered into the back of Arthur's car.

They're both tired and it's a quiet car ride, but Merlin can't help but notice the peculiar way that Arthur keeps looking at her. It's not a bad look, but it's got a softness that Arthur doesn't usually have in moments that aren't inherently tender. Or maybe this moment is inherently tender and Merlin hasn't gotten the memo.

"What are you staring at me like that for?" Merlin asks. "Do I have something on my face?"

"No." Arthur shakes her head. "I was just thinking about the first time I saw you. Well, the first time I saw you again and how different my life would be if I hadn't plucked you out of that rain storm."

Merlin blinks at her, reminded of how much the woman in front of her is still the teenage girl with the weight of the future on her shoulders. Reminded of how, while Merlin's run off and experienced the world, Arthur's more or less been right here. There's been no one else for her and the full extent of that is just now becoming apparent.

"I think we'd have never made peace with our pasts. And we wouldn't have the support we have of being women in this world, upholding these vast, often patriarchal legacies."

"We're lucky, aren't we?"

"I suppose you are for having me," Merlin jokes, lightening the mood. These discussions are usually had in the dark, completely alone. She doesn't trust the driver to not be listening. That's when it dawns on her that Arthur's more careful than she usually is and she doesn't care.

"I like to think the luck is mutual, Merlin."

"I'm lucky to have you." She reaches for Arthur's hand, lacing their fingers together.

"I want to tell everyone about this."

For a split second it felt as though all the air left the car. Merlin was certain she was floating. She had to verify that she had not, in fact, made herself float out of her seat. This wasn't something she'd ever truly entertained.

"You want to what now?"

"I want to tell everyone about this. About us. I want to come out, but specifically in the context of being with you."

"Are you sure?" Merlin squeezes her hand. "I'd never ask you to, I know it's a big risk."

"I don't know if I'm ready yet, but I want to. Just give me time, let me have some time."

With the flashes of nearby lights glimpsing across her face, Merlin can tell there's tears in Arthur's eyes. She moves closer, cupping her cheek in her hand.

"Oh, Arthur. For you I'd give all the time in the world and then some."

Merlin wakes to her phone rather violently vibrating. It's three in the morning and she'd just nodded off. In her instant moment of panic, she answers, then immediately regrets the choice. It's a reporter who's somehow got her contact information. Arthur sits up beside her, looking more asleep than awake at first. She stills her arm before she can hang up and mouths the word "speaker phone."

The voice on the other end of the line is tinny. "Do you have anything to say about being pictured with the king last night? Isn’t he everything you stand against?"

Merlin mulls it over, glancing between Arthur and the phone for a few moments. "My father was an innocent man and that's all I'm going to say on the matter."

With those words out in the air, it's like some curse has lifted. Whatever happens in the future is going to happen. Arthur's as good as declared her love, but she's free to go. Merlin claims no ownership over anyone. It's a liberation she didn't think she could buy so easily.

"And what about the princess? The rumor is that you two are good friends."

"I have the utmost faith in the ability of our future leaders to help build the world we all need and deserve. Goodbye."

She hangs up the phone and all but tosses it aside, sinking back into Arthur's bed.

"Those statements won't make most of the morning papers," Arthur clarifies, "but with digital press...they're probably posted now."

"I'm sorry, if I said something wrong, I'm sorry."

"No." Arthur shakes her head before laying back down as well. They're both buried under the covers, laying to face each other. "You were right. Your father was an innocent man and my father is a guilty one. We are their futures and I have to do my best to fix the world that his guilt has created, I just hope you'll continue to help me."

"I love you."

Arthur moves closer on the bed, touching her forehead to Merlin's. It wouldn't matter if she never answered, Merlin knew the response, she knew so very clearly in that moment exactly what Arthur was thinking. As a blessing, Arthur says it anyway.

"I love you too."

It's almost disappointing that the next morning they wake to the same world. Anything that was said or promised or hinted at couldn't change the world. There was still work to be done. Still, Merlin takes the time to relish in the small things. In this instance, the small things were mostly down to how much she really didn't mind kissing Arthur even with morning breath.

"I have to go soon, I promised Gwen I'd be back for brunch." She punctuated her statement with another kiss nonetheless.

"I have some invitations for them. Her and Gwaine, that is. There's a party, a ball I guess, for my 25th birthday in a few days. Of course you're invited as well."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to come. Thank you."

Merlin sits up and stretches. Thankfully, she's got some clothes she keeps at Arthur's, because she can't imagine going home in the dress from the night before. It's hard enough to leave bed when she's cosy in a t-shirt that smells like Arthur and everything's so warm and comfortable.

"When can I see you next?" Arthur asks. That's usually her way of saying that she wants to see her as soon as possible but doesn't want to seem needy.

"I'm going to visit my mum for a few days, but as soon as I get back." She turns to sit on the edge of the bed. "Is it alright if I tell her about us?"

"Yeah, of course. I think it's only fair that she knows at this point in time."

"Thank you."


	11. Chapter 11

Upon entering her flat, Merlin debates turning away. That wouldn't be fair to either of her flatmates, however. With her usual disdain for most of humanity, Nimueh is sat at the kitchen table. At least this time she's only brought one newspaper with her. Stepping into the room, she almost misses Morgause standing like some sort of over qualified watchdog.

"Didn't know we had some extra guests to brunch today, Gwen." Merlin takes the seat across from Nimueh. Both Gwen and Gwaine are busying themselves cooking. Well, Gwen is cooking and Gwaine is sticking their fingers into everything they can. "This is about the charity dinner last night, I'm assuming. What did I do to deeply offend now?"

"You're literally pictured being escorted into the dining room by the king, do I need to even add anything?"

"I was at a political event, he was there. I wasn't thrilled about it."

She slides the paper closer to herself. The front page picture is, somehow, one of herself with Leon, Arthur, and Uther. The headline reads "UK's future leaders converge at charity gala." She skims the article, finding it interesting how it summarizes how the three younger people stand in respect to their forefathers, or in this case, literal fathers. Merlin's briefly distracted by a subarticle about the alleged romance between Arthur and Leon but she's brought to reality by Nimueh's voice.

"I have the utmost faith in the ability of our future leaders to help build the world we all need and deserve," she mocks, reading from her phone. "You can't actually believe this, Emrys. This is everything we stand against."

"Excuse me, Nimueh, but you don't get to dictate what I do and don't stand for against." She crosses her arms. "We have a similar end goal, that much is true, but I'm not such a fan of your way to get it, frankly."

"What does it matter how we get it?"

"Because I'm not going to use my magic to hurt people, and I'm not sure you could reasonably say the same."

She watches as the other woman's eyes flicker a dangerous gold, just for a moment. Merlin rises slowly, her own eyes reflecting the same hue. "I don't want you coming in here and telling me what I can or cannot say again, do you understand? I'm done with your influence, you have no right. You're not welcome in my home without an explicit invitation."

"Very well. But don't expect to maintain your standing without my good favor, Merlin." Nimueh stands, eyeing her up.

"I don't need your good favor, people will follow me because I want to do the right thing, because I'm fighting with the people. And as for access to space, well, I've got connections with or without you."

Nimueh strides out with all the gusto of someone who still pretends being a high priestess means anything without the ability to adapt.

"I think I'm starting to understand why Morgana likes you so much," Morgause states, stepping forward. "I don't always agree with you, but I don't think most of us agree with her, you know. So thank you."

"I would offer you to stay for brunch but..."

"Heaven's no." Morgause laughs. "I'd never. Goodbye, Merlin."

For the past few months, Hunith has been living in a small cottage a few hours outside of London. She inherited enough money from her husband to live a more indulgent lifestyle, but instead she's opted to find a place where she can have quiet. The money can wait until Merlin or some charity or some great and bold cause needs it. When Merlin steps through the front gate, spying her mother cleaning out dead plants from the garden, she feels at peace. Even with the druids, she has expectations forced on her. Here, it's only her and her mother.

Hunith rises, wiping off her hands before she approaches her daughter, wrapping her warmly in her arms.

"It's so good to see you, my sweetest girl. I think you've gotten taller these past months."

Merlin laughs when she pulls away. Her mother always says something like that. "It's the London air, it's been stretching me out. Do you have something to eat?"

"Already looking for food?”

They walk into the kitchen where Hunith has a soup waiting on the stovetop. It takes every ounce of self control Merlin has to not eat directly out of the ladle and to actually make herself a bowl of soup. Her own cooking efforts as of late have been feeble at best and the strange alternation between whatever's on sale at Tesco and very expensive food has got her appetite acting very strangely.

"It's been strange seeing you in the papers off and on," Hunith says, not expecting Merlin to respond much. "I'm very proud of the way you're handling yourself. That statement about your father, that was...very bold."

"You're not angry that I'm making such waves?"

"Merlin, you're old enough that you're going to make your own choices at this point in time, and I know you're fighting for something."

Merlin settles herself at the table, taking large spoonfuls of the soup. It's true enough, Merlin's 23 years old and has to face the fact that her mum might not approve of everything she does, but that's life. And Hunith hasn't really said that she disapproves, in fact.

"I'm just not sure who everyone's expecting me to be," she admits. "I'm trying to be a good person and to fight for my people but it feels like I'm held up to this legacy of...a man who's been gone a long time. Half of these people don't even remember him as a person, but as some ideal. I barely remember him as a person."

Hunith is quiet, but only for a moment. "You forget that there's one person who very much so does remember him as a person, Merlin. He'd be proud of you, you know. Glad that you're his legacy. But you'd also butt heads with him." She chuckles. "Each generation brings something new and that's just that."

It's awkward to be so moved with a mouthful of soup, so Merlin has to push hers aside.

"I just wish I'd had the chance to at least remember him more, to get to see that first hand."

"Well, our unfortunate reality is that you can't, but I see so much of him in you. The way you're worried now, questioning things, thinking them through? That's all him."

"I'm not all him, Mum. You have to take credit where it's due." She offers her mother a warm smile.

"Well, you got your height from him. Now, finish your soup so that you can help in the garden. The rose bush needs trimmed up."

Merlin's agreed to spend two full days with her mother. For the first of those, she helps her around the house and catches up on her life, which seems full of its own level of excitement. She finds herself wondering if this was the life her mother had wanted all along. As an adult it's easy to recognize that Hunith had stayed in London and lived her life there because of the advantage it gave her daughter. It could be considered a controversial choice, but Merlin's grateful for it. The thought of living in this village is very stifling to her most of the time.

The next day they go for a walk around the village and make a stew together. Hunith chides her daughter for using tricks to help cook, but ultimately they end up laughing and making jokes. As it cooks, Hunith reads stories from the paper aloud as Merlin rests her head in her mother's lap, enjoying the gentle touch of her fingers through her hair. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to be stifled like this, unlike with the druids, Merlin doubts she'd be reminded of her alleged destiny here. She could just be Hunith's daughter with the short hair and the ill fitting clothes. But no, she realizes, she wants to be back in London, fighting the fight, hopefully by Arthur's side.

Hunith makes her move when she's certain the stew's done and they eat it together, huddled close on the couch. Even living in the big city growing up, they'd led humble lives like this and Merlin's grateful for that. There's no substitute for the earnest love she felt every step of the way growing up. When they're finished, she collects the bowls and makes them both tea, stopping in the doorway to the living room. It's gone dark and if she doesn't speak now, she never will. It's probably bad to be shaking a bit when holding two mugs of tea, so she puts one down in front of her mother.

"Mum, I've got a new girlfriend. Well, she's not really new, we've been together for a few months now actually."

"Is that what you look like a frightened bird? I'd figured by how busy you've been that you were seeing someone new." Hunith pats the seat beside her. "Sit back down."

"It's not that simple. It's not- I don't know if you'll approve."

"Merlin, dear. I approved of that arrogant boy who lived down the street that you'd bring home like a stray puppy."

Merlin takes a seat, staring ahead at the wall. "No, it's not like that. She's perfectly- actually she's a bit arrogant, too."

"What is it you're trying to say?" Her mother's tone is gentle and concerned, which can only make things harder when the words are so very much so stuck in her throat.

"I'm in love with Arthur Pendragon," she admits, burying her face in her hands, not with shame but the fear of disappointing her mother. "I have been since we were girls, I think."

It's with the gentlest touch that Hunith moves her daughter's hands from her face and takes them in her own hands.

"Does she love you?"

"She does. She's told me, she wants to tell everyone someday."

"I had guessed your interest in her when you were a teenager. I wasn't sure for a while if it was her or Morgana, but then there was that party and you came home looking so distressed, it just all clicked into place. I didn't imagine anything would ever come of it."

"You don't need to approve, I'm not asking you to approve." Having her mother's disapproval would be a disappointment, but she also knows that Hunith would never ask her to end a relationship for that reason.

"She doesn't deserve you, but I'm not going to make her responsible for someone else's sins. I wasn't blind to the friendship you built with her, or the fact that you were friends again. I just don't want you to be a pawn in the Pendragon game, that's all I ask. If you think she truly loves you and wants you for who you are, I can give her no ill will."

"I know it, mum. I can tell she means it, she means everything. She's going to be this...incredible woman and this incredible leader and to just have the chance to be beside her, It's the only thing I can think to do."

Hunith moves her hands away, instead taking Merlin's and giving them a squeeze. "I think together you can undo some of the damage her father has done, and if she makes you happy as a woman, I can ask for nothing more in this world."

Merlin pulls her hand away only to embrace her mother. The world feels full of hope in a new way. If her mother believes in their future, others surely must as well.

**Sixteen**

In all of her years knowing the Pendragons, Merlin's never really questioned how exactly Morgana's fit in with the family. Apparently her father was an old friend of the king's (not surprising given that he held a title) and after his passing, she lived with the family. She was never quite given the full privileges of a daughter, but still treated well. In a lot of ways, Uther favored her over Arthur.

Merlin always felt a natural interest in Morgana, a sort of kindred spirit thing that she couldn't quite place. Of course, when she found out about Morgana's magic it seemed to explain everything about that so perfectly. Morgana was a magical like herself and, in her naive mind at the time, a default true friend.

Once, she'd entered Morgana's room unannounced, staring for a few moments as the girl worked on some sort of spell or other. It was fascinating, being around someone she could tell had some strong power. When Morgana turned around abruptly, there was fear in her eyes and Merlin only caught a glimpse before she was pushed by a force out into the hallway.

"Shit, Merlin! I'm sorry." The other girl rushes forward to help her to her feet.

"It's alright. I should have announced myself." She rubs the back of her head. She had been doing work with Arthur before Arthur was called into her father's office. This was a regular occurrence during their study dates. "What're you working on?"

"Whatever I can find in the few books I can sneak in here," she explains. "That's a very powerful defensive spell, but I'm sort of interested in the magic to build."

"Or to attack?"

"If need be to attack."

"Hopefully not me, at least."

"Never you, Merlin." Morgana laughs at the absurdity of the idea. "Who else would help me tease Arthur if you were gone?"

Merlin leaves her mother's very early the next morning. She's already got the rest of her day planned out. Take the train, text Arthur once she's awake, tell Arthur how much she loves her and then spend at least two hours doing nothing in bed. Okay, so that's only about half of her day, but it's a good enough plan.

The train is only a stone's throw from Hunith's cottage so even in the early morning light it's easy enough to find her way. The station is abandoned, as she's used to. It's even earlier than most people would be leaving for their jobs in the city. In fact, it's the sound of another person that alerts her.

"Hello?" she calls out tentatively, trying to find the source of the noise, a sound like whispering. Is it one voice or many? She can't tell for certain. "Someone else here for an early morning ride?"

The whispers escalate and buzz about in her ears. It's hard to focus the way they're blurring her thoughts and now her vision. The instinct to do something, anything with her magic is screaming out but the only scream that can come out is one that's all too human. The whispers stop and then everything goes black.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moderate warnings: character in distress, implied physical violence

**Twenty-One**

The first time Merlin sees a High Priestess in person, she's in London only for a day on the way to visit her mother. Freya's told her about this new political movement back home and asked for her to go to a rally to form her own opinion and at the very least buy her a pin badge. She's doing that when she hears a voice ringing out. The coins slip out of her fingers as she turns her head.

The woman speaking has dark hair and skin so pale that Merlin imagines she must use a parasol to keep it so pristine. She commands the room so very easily. One day, Merlin will realize this woman is Nimueh. In that moment all Merlin can process is a divine need to listen and a simmering uneasiness that she calls jealousy in that moment.

If Merlin was a boy, she'd understand why she wasn't called to be a high priestess. That's obvious enough, but Merlin's never felt like a boy for a day in her life. Instead, she's been told her whole life that she's somehow very powerful but never told specifically how. She's not a Dragonlord because she's a girl and she's not a High Priestess despite being a woman. The pieces don't exactly fit.

"We must eradicate the source of the hatred," Nimueh exclaims. "The dynasty that has held us in oppression for too long, we cannot coexist in a world with such a hateful thing sitting at the throne of power."

Sometimes, Merlin thinks the same things. For the next several years, Merlin decides for herself if that decision is the right one. In that moment, she's just in awe of the way Nimueh's got the attention of every damn person in the room.

When Merlin does come to, she's in a fairly standard looking room. It's got a bed and a window and there's a little bathroom just off the far wall. Anyone else would be confused or fooled, but she can tell there's a strong glamour on the space. When she peers out the window, she can see a bustling London street, but she suspects that the street can't see her.

She tugs off her jacket, patting each pocket down in hopes of finding her phone in one of the pockets, then does the same to her jeans. Of course it's gone, she expected nothing else. It's hard to conceive just how long she was sleeping or unconscious or dead or whatever it was she was, but she can't imagine it was a brief while.

"It's been five hours, Merlin," someone says from the other side of the door. Merlin's ready to bolt but finds it impossible to do so as Nimueh steps in. "You have ten text messages from Arthur Pendragon, of all people." She's holding Merlin's phone in her hand. "What am I supposed to surmise from that?"

"That when a friend's been expecting to see you and you're three hours late, they worry."

"Your roommate, the cowardly one with the curly hair, called you three times."

"Coward?" Merlin snarls.

"She refuses to come and support us because of a court case."

"Against her father!"

"A coward nonetheless." Nimueh sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside her.

"I'd give up my magic to have my father back, people do things like that for love." Merlin does not budge.

The look on Nimueh's face would be comical if Merlin wasn't afraid. "Magic is the source of all good in this world. And evil. And you, well, magic is the only father you need. Now sit before I must make you."

For some reason, Merlin obeys.

"It's not your Gwen's father or your own father we're here for. It's the father of that pesky princess, you understand."

"Obviously. That's why we've been doing everything we do."

"I want to declare war on him."

"Then why don't you go up to him and drop a gauntlet? I've heard Morgause has attempted it a few times."

"That's not my style. You see," Nimueh captures Merlin's face by the chin, "there's this thing in all these fairy tales about fathers and their daughters. Twelve girls sneaking out in the middle of the night, the father stealing the rose for his darling girl...for wicked kings sometimes the only weakness is his darling little girl."

"You want to hurt the only person in that damn family who has ever tried to help us?" Merlin shoots up in an instant, as if she's been burnt.

"First of all, Morgana has been of instrumental help and would be a far better leader than her half sister. Second," her tone turns less matter of fact and more dark, "I'm not going to be the one to hurt her."

"What the hell?"

"Why would I do that when the Pendragons have been domesticating their own beast for a decade and a half? You see, whether either of you know it, the only known Magical who has been allowed alone in a room with Princess Priss or in close quarters with her has been you."

The rumors, then, have been true. Arthur's been sheltered possibly out of fear of retaliation, possibly out of nothing but pure hatred. And all this time Merlin is the only person who's not been seen as a threat. It's almost offensive to think that, but it's also true. She could not conceive of hurting Arthur.

"I'm not hurting Arthur."

"The choice of spell is entirely up to you. Our one request is that she's dead."

The ice in Merlin's veins rises then, through every inch of her body and her eyes glow that familiar gold. The entire room starts to shake and she sends a lamp crashing to the ground. Some force restrains it, turns it in on herself and she crumples to the floor, screaming in pain.

Nimueh rises to her feet, looking down at her as though she's dust. "I'll give you a day to decide if you want to do this willingly, Merlin. You'll be doing it regardless, but there's a place for you in the new regime if you help us, if you join me."

"Go fuck yourself," she grits out, refusing to meet her eye.

**Twenty-One**

The night after Merlin first sees Nimueh, she ends up sleeping uneasily, tossing and turning. She can hear every sound outside and wonders if she's always been aware. When she does finally succumb to sleep, it's a dream of her father. These are not uncommon for her and she suspects they never will be, but each feels like a new knife twisting in her stomach.

They sit together in some familiar yet unfamiliar meadow, watching as Aithusa darts in the sky above them. Balinor talks easily with the dragon in a language that Merlin has never, despite years of studying, managed to master. One day she'll do right by her friend, but until then she'll enjoy the sun and the delusion of happiness. But even that doesn't want to come to her that day.

"Why are you crying, my girl?" her father asks, giving her a look of concern.

"Why am I not a high priestess? Why am I not sure of who or what I am?"

"Not everyone's born with such a specific title or purpose, Merlin. And you've still got years to go until you reach your full potential, you'll be alright."

"But I'm your child and I'm not a Dragonlord and I'm not a priestess. I'm really nothing, am I?"

"You, my dearest girl, are something else altogether." There's a brightness in his eyes, as though he's about to laugh or disappear into thin air. Both would be plausible in this dreamscape. "And you're going to be loved and you're going to be brilliant."

Merlin ends up sleeping after Nimueh leaves. It's not that she doesn't want to try anything else, so much as she feels helpless. There's no decision making to be done. Her only hope is to try to make some sort of escape and in order to do that she needs rest. When she wakes, there's someone speaking outside of the room, it doesn't sound like Nimueh, but like someone having a heated phone conversation. In fact, she recognizes the voice fairly clearly as Morgause.

"Morgause," she exhales, moving forward to press her face to the door.  
It's suddenly quiet on the other side.

"Morgause, I know that's you over there. I need help. You've got to let me out of here. You can't possibly agree with what Nimueh's trying to do."

The silence is speaking more than any word can do.

"Please," Merlin chokes out. "You can't want this to happen, you have to know what this would do to your sister, she'd be devastated. There's a better answer."

She knows full well that Morgause is fully for the complete overthrow of the current government, but she can't imagine that Morgause actually supports the assassination, the murder of someone who's at her core good.

"I can't let this happen to Arthur." She starts to cry, despite herself. "Please, she doesn't deserve this. I don't care what you do to me, kill me if you have to to prevent this, but don't hurt her."

"Merlin," the answer is just a whisper. "I can't help you with this. I'm a High Priestess too, you understand, I can't betray her like this."

She hits the door hard enough that someone else could easily be alerted, but no one comes. Instead she listens to the sound of Morgause walking down a hall. She's not hurrying like someone who feels guilt, just moving with her usual chilly, collected grace.

**Twenty-Three**

On one of the rare occasions that Arthur ends up at Merlin's flat, they end up sat on Merlin's bed, comparing embarrassing stories from uni. Arthur's story is a good one, about how half of her classmates saw a pair of her knickers fall out of a bag. That story almost made national headlines, except for some careful preventative measures. When they're done laughing, Arthur encourages Merlin to share hers and she does willingly.

"When I was bored, I would make things float."

"Yes, you do that all the time now and act like no one can see."

"Shut it."

"Make me."

"After my story, maybe." She shoots her a cheeky grin. "Anyway, that day I was in a very boring lecture. I'm half asleep and suddenly the professor's wig starts to float in the air..."

"No."

"Yes."

"But that's not embarrassing for you, that's for the teacher!"

"Not when all eyes suddenly go to you and you're sort of drooling everywhere."

Arthur laughs and it's one of her hearty laughs, the kind that will always make Merlin's stomach flip flop a bit.

"Your magic is the most incredible, beautiful thing I've ever encountered. Well, one of the most."

"Very good save there, Pendragon."

She pulls Arthur in for a kiss, just a brief and chaste touching of lips.

"But I mean it. And I trust it, that's the thing. My father's spent so long teaching me to mistrust magic but I've never felt anything but safe around you. In fact, I feel safer for having you around."

Instead of another kiss, Merlin embraces her, holding her tight for a few long moments. When she pulls away, there's something shining in her eyes.

"Do you want to see some really cool magic?"

"Is this a euphemism? Because I'm good either way, but I really would like to see what the most powerful sorceress in the world can do." She smirks. "Yes, Merlin, I know what people say about you and your powers. It's alright."

That's just it, it's alright. Perhaps no one will ever trust and understand her as Arthur does and that's alright, so long as there's someone like Arthur out in the world, seeking to understand and make it better.

The next time she sees Nimueh, it's early morning, she knows that much. Merlin's sat in bed with her knees drawn to her chest. Her little room set up thankfully came with a change of clothes and the ability to wash.

"There's a party tonight," Nimueh begins, holding up the invitation, "Her Royal Highness is 25 today, if you can believe it. What an opportune moment, don't you think?"

She swallows hard and narrows her eyes. If nothing else, Merlin can be defiant and she does that very well.

"I'm assuming this means you're not feeling up to the task set for you?"

The response is still silence. She will find a way out of this mess, one way or another.

"I've got a gift for you, Emrys." She holds out a necklace with a dark, deep blue pendant. "There's other means of taking over your mind, but this one seemed the most fitting and elegant."

"I can take a necklace off, you know," she answers. There has to be a catch, of course there's a catch.

"Only someone else can remove the necklace, and you won't be able to ask them to remove it. Besides, once it's on, it takes hold of your mind and the most important thing it wants to do is stay on your pretty little neck. So you may luck into it, but I doubt it. It's such a fine and pretty thing, isn't it?"

"What happens if I remove it?"

"Could be nothing, could instantly kill you. Or we could just kill the princess outright if we spy you out and about without it on your neck."

"You can't get close enough to use magic-"

"There's other ways to kill someone. Now the question is- are you going to let us put this on willingly or are we going to have to have a struggle, dearest Emrys?"

The tilt of her voice shows that she already knows the answer.


	13. Chapter 13

With the necklace, Merlin feels as though she's walking underwater. In her mind she's present and observing, but everything else is moving all on its own, in a world that's not quite the one she's used to. She remembers the world going black again and when she wakes in the haze, she's at her flat and there's a dress bag hanging over her bedroom door. It's just after seven, meaning the party's starting in an hour. Each thing she can do to delay adds a moment to think her way out of this and that's the defense she must use.

She hesitates when she steps towards the dress, unzipping the bag carefully. There's a note on it and at first she fears it's just another part of Nimueh's plan but no, it's from Arthur herself. The note insists that Merlin must forgive this expensive present because it's her birthday and people are allowed to be selfish on their birthdays. This must have arrived several days ago, she realizes, because by this point Arthur must have realized she's been gone or missing. The dress itself is stunning, lovely dark blue tulle with a plunging neck, embellished with embroidered flowers. The sheer sleeves will elegantly drape off of her shoulders and she can imagine Arthur lovingly choosing this dress out of many. Or maybe shopping for herself and it catching her eye.

If she has to go to this party, she's going to dress like she's going (and maybe waste just a bit more precious time, even as she feels the itch to get out and head to the palace, she'll fight it as long as she can.) When she is dressed, she wants to linger but her feet move in her haze, and it's beyond her that she hails a cab. The tube would have taken longer, would have bought her more time. The cabbie eyes her warily, wondering what business a woman dressed so elegantly has in a cab in the first place. She wants the cabbie to be suspicious, she'd love to be taken away by someone, but then she remembers Nimueh's threat. There are other ways to kill Arthur.  
It's not just about making sure Arthur lives, it's about exposing this evil lurking right under everyone's noses. It's about keeping Arthur alive for longer.

The ballroom in the palace is decked out in absolute splendor. Instead of the usual heavy red draperies that Uther seems to favor, Arthur has had the place decorated in flowers and fairy lights. It's elegant and light, much more fitting the reign of the future queen than the current king.  
It feels, in truth, like a fairy tale. Maybe that's what this has been all along, Merlin thinks, or rather hopes, just a fairy tale story and she'll wake up from this dream. Will she start over again? Insist she doesn't take the ride from Arthur, never try to seek an answer and instead run far, far away again? She doesn't have time to mull this over, though, before she's embraced very abruptly and very warmly by someone, then another someone.

When she steps away, she seems her flatmates, Gwen buzzing with nervous energy and Gwaine looking outright relieved.

"Half of the police force is out looking for you, Merlin," Gwaine says. "From what I've heard, Uther had to beg Arthur to even put in an appearance tonight."

"I was-" She opens her mouth to speak, but the truth is not coming out, in fact, a pleasant lie takes its place as though it's scripted. "I needed some time alone after I left my mum's so I found a quiet little town, but I lost my phone. I didn't think anyone would miss me that much."

"Merlin, we were all worried sick. How could you be that irresponsible?" Gwen asks, looking hurt and a bit angry.

"It's just something I had to do, Gwen, I'm sorry. It was necessary."

Her eyes sweep the room for familiar faces. The more she knows about everyone's whereabouts the better. She spots Morgause first, talking to some young fellow who thinks he looks better than he does. Morgana is hard to miss, in her sheer white dress that sharply contrasts with the darkness of her hair. She thinks she's just caught sight of Nimueh when Gwaine speaks.

"You should probably go find Arthur, she's been a wreck. I didn't know it was possible to call someone that many times. I think I know more about her than I ever needed to, in fact, and I've been shagging her security guard."

"I'll get to her," she answers, meaning to sound dismissive, but out of her mouth tumbles the, "right away, I'm sure you two understand."

She doesn't even give them the goodbye warranted to good friends before she cuts through the crowd. The lack of control she feels is one of the most frightening things she's felt in her life. Without the ability to move herself, to do what she wishes, her magic is useless. She watches as Morgana slips into Morgause's conversation and manages to shoot a very pointed look at Morgause, which the other woman ignores.

The first thing she sees of Arthur is the back of her head, her hair half down and intertwined with red roses and baby's breath. Even without the eyes of love, it's impossible to miss her, as the only woman in the entire room wearing a red dress. If nothing else, she has the opportunity to take a steeling breath before she faces Arthur. Immediately upon turning around, Arthur's rushing towards her, throwing her arms around her. She's lifted slightly off the ground and spun about.

"Where the hell have you been?" Arthur asks, cupping her cheek, brushing it very gently with her thumb. "I was so worried."

"I needed some quiet time to think. I'm fine, I promise. We shouldn't be doing this in the middle of the room."

"I don't care, Merlin. I thought I'd lost you and I couldn't..." She presses her forehead against Merlin's.

"Arthur, please. We have to be sensible. I need to talk to you."

Truth be told, her head feels clear around Arthur. She's in charge of herself and maybe this will last long enough to guarantee that Arthur stays safe.

"Can we dance first?"

"We can talk and dance."

She's led to the dance floor and Arthur leads. It's far from uncommon for two young women to dance together at these functions. If it weren't for the fact that Arthur was the most conspicuous figure in the room, no one would notice. This is exactly what Merlin is trying to avoid, being too obvious. She tries to anchor herself, to focus on her feelings for Arthur to keep from drifting into that space again.

"What did you want to talk about, then?"

"I need more privacy than this." Or maybe that's the magic working against her, she realizes, trying to get Arthur alone. She starts to shake.

"Merlin? Are you alright?" Arthur stops the dance and takes her off to a side room. "You can tell me anything."

"It's not that simple, you know. Just telling you. I promise I'm fine. I just- I really need to go tonight, that's all. I need to go while I'm still able to go. I'm not going anywhere, just I can't be here."

"That's sort of nonsense, you're talking nonsense." Arthur reaches for her hand, but doesn't force the issue when Merlin chooses to walk away.

As soon as she's left the room, though, she catches a glimpse of Nimueh, sees her approach. There's a few other obvious movements in the crowd, all in her direction. This could be a scare tactic, or this could be a move. Either way, she has to make a snap decision and moves back to the room.

"You're not safe here, Arthur, you need to go," she manages. "They've got me-"

"I'm not going anywhere without you, not when you're acting like this."

"You have to go! Now!" she screams, knowing full well every eye in the room will be turned on them.

The magic surges through her like a tidal wave, something beyond her control. It's her own magic, but it's separate from her and her wishes, and she can feel that it's all directed at Arthur. It moves forward, becomes something separate entirely and there's a deafening crack as her world comes down to a pinprick of everything she's ever felt, everything she's loved and everything she's lost.

Her eyes open only a few moments later. For the first time possibly ever, she's grateful that the world she's opening her eyes in is the same in which she closed them. There's a wall of energy or magic or something between her and Arthur, her own magic's manifestation has cracked and spilled onto the ground into shards of the same deep, dark blue as the necklace.

It's Morgana who surges forward, ripping the necklace off of her neck and tossing it into the pile with the other shards. "Are you alright?" she asks softly. "I'm sorry I didn't find you to do that sooner."

"But you- how did you-"

"I'm not the most powerful sorceress ever, but I do know some protection spells. As for the necklace, Morgause told me."

"Thank you."

She doesn't dare look over at Arthur and doesn't have time to do so before Uther himself is striding over to them.

"Seize that menace this instant," he exclaims. "She's a treasonous little parasite and she's tried to kill my girl."

Merlin doesn't have time to speak before she's grabbed on both sides. If this had occurred for any other reason, she'd be defiant. She might be defiant still, but right now her concern is Arthur.

"Uther, don't be ridiculous she was clearly under an enchan-" Morgana attempts to explain but she's cut off.

"I should have you shackled as well for lying and consorting with known criminals."

Morgause steps forward then with a grip on Nimueh's arm. "Your majesty, not only can I prove this woman has enchanted Ms. Emrys, but I believe it serves you well to remember that you've invited reporters to this event. It's in your best interest to speak well to my sister."

"Send them all away for all I care, the Priestesses, the Emrys brat."

No one moves. The air seems to be leaving the room for a few moments before Arthur speaks.

"We will give this woman a fair trial, as we do all of our citizens." For a moment Merlin thinks Arthur is speaking about her and her second greatest fear is realized. "As for Ms. Emrys, I insist that you let her go."

"She just tried to kill you, Arthur, don't be fooled. She's the same as her father who would have you dead before you were even born."

"Her father was a good man!" Arthur exclaims. "I'm not ignorant to family secrets, I know that it was your choices that led to my mother's death, that all he did was offer you the council that you asked of him. You were angry at yourself and the mistakes you made so you created a manhunt and he was the first casualty. My only shame is that my father is not as good of a man as hers was."

Uther's jaw goes slack and he can't speak for a few long moments, so Arthur continues to speak.

"Now, let Merlin go."

With a simple hand motion from the king, Merlin is released and she gives in to the natural impulse to run straight into Arthur's arms.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you what happened. I couldn't because the-"

"I think I get it, Merlin." Arthur smiles warmly at her. "But you can explain later, for now I think it's time we...explain something else. If that's alright."

"Are you sure?" she whispers. "You don't have to."

"I want everyone to know. If we don't everyone's just going to speculate, you know, and I'm at a point in my life where I don't want that."

They walk forward together, hand in hand. Every eye in the room is on them. This is the beginning of the world they're going to begin together.

"What are you doing, Arthur?" Her father asks, venom in his voice.

"Father, I'm asking for you to bless my relationship with Merlin. If you do not give your blessing, then I will continue to love her anyway, but this woman standing in front of you is not the daughter of an enemy, but the daughter of a betrayed friend, and you owe her respect as your subject and my partner."

Truth be told, this should be embarrassing and awkward in such a public space, but Merlin gets it. Whatever Uther answers, the public will have Arthur's side. It's politics and it's very smart politics. Arthur is the answer to generations of hatred and she hopes to be just as much of an answer as the woman beside her.

"You're not leaving me with much of a choice." An unpopular king is never a good thing, especially in a modern government. Uther’s held on to the little bit of real power he has very dearly. "I cannot give you my blessing, but I do not ask you to dissolve your relationship, nor do I disown you as my child and rightful heir."

Little victories, Merlin thinks. Hopefully the victories will be larger in the future, but this feels like enough of one to celebrate. Arthur lifts her hand to her mouth, then kisses it softly.  
"Now, everyone, I believe you came here to dance and celebrate and I expect that from each and every one of you."

It's an awkward few minutes, both of them standing there as everyone slowly resumes acting like normal. Before someone else can claim either of them for a dance, Arthur tugs on Merlin's hand, leading her out onto the palace grounds.

"What the hell just happened?" Merlin asks, barking out a laugh.

"Well, you almost killed me, Morgana, who apparently has magic, saved my life. Which, by the way, how long have you know that she has magic? Because you clearly do."

"I'll tell you that story some other time, I promise."

"Then my father just- I came out to the entire country- to the world."

"A really good thing I went home to tell my mum."

Arthur laughs loudly and kisses her, because it's the only natural thing to do in that moment, the only accurate answer to everything they've been through. It starts to rain, but this rain is soft, the drizzle of a spring shower, not a summer downpour. Things will be different this time when they breathlessly run into the palace.


	14. Epilogue

Merlin moves in with Arthur soon after the events of the party. She knows it's probably a bit early in their relationship, but it's more of an arrangement of convenience than anything else. They're both busy with their respective political activities and, in Merlin's case, her job. Uther is very wary of his daughter cohabitating with a Magical (his begrudging acceptance must hinge on the belief that the relationship will self destruct) but sends them a very expensive bottle of champagne, which they share with some friends once Merlin's got everything unpacked.   
If they spend their entire relationship dwelling on the fact that Uther doesn’t like Merlin, it will self destruct. Instead, they work on making the flat into a home and Merlin even jokes about getting a royal pet. Arthur makes a comment about how Merlin already has an oversized dog, but they don’t have room for Aithusa in a dog house. It’s not a perfect thing, but it’s precious and strong despite being delicate.

The vacancy in Merlin's flat is soon enough filled. Young Mordred, having successfully completed his A levels, decides to make the move to London for schooling. He fits right in with Gwaine and Gwen and they make plenty of jokes about him being far cleaner than Merlin ever was. He also doesn't bring any princesses home, which they haven't decided is more of a pro or a con. Gwaine insists they don't really miss having Merlin around, anyway, because they're often over at or around Arthur's for time with Percy. Gwen says that Mordred’s more polite, but she misses hearing Merlin and Gwaine bicker over their sugar in the morning, so Merlin takes extra care to bicker whenever she’s over to visit. Anything to make her friend smile.

In Mordred’s place, Morgana chooses to spend some time with the Druids. She ends up fast friends with Aithusa and eager to learn everything she can. With her magic now being so public, she knows it's important to seek answers, to try to build a better world publicly, and to choose her own path. When she comes to visit, there's always a warmth behind her eyes that never quite reached them before. Though she's never said anything to more than her closest friends, the press has latched onto the idea that she's become a high priestess in the absence of Nimueh. (Who after her fair and just trial is serving sentences for both an attempted assassination and a kidnapping.) Uther has some strong words about this allegation, but after he’s regarded with dislike for it, he even extends an offer to visit the Druids. They politely leave the invitation in limbo but welcome Arthur as often as she likes.

With Arthur moving quickly to remedy legislation on magic use and on Magicals, Gwen's father is soon a free man and Gwen thanks the princess profusely. It's only after about half an hour of insistence that she stops that she does. It's the least Arthur can do, she says, after letting so many people suffer for so long. Regardless of the compassion now in her heart, regardless of how she feels, she has to contend with the wrong she's done or the injustices she's ignored. That's her duty as a leader. Silence on matters of hatred can be just as bad as the hatred itself and she’s learning to speak with love and compassion at all times.

Merlin won't allow her to be too hard on herself, but still holds her responsible. Guilt doesn't do good if it's not put into actions to make the world better, she reminds her, and ultimately Arthur's too happy to let guilt weigh her down. Merlin's blessed to have her destiny intertwined with Arthur's, but she feels just as blessed to have the small moments, the happiness of this relationship. It’s not about the destiny itself, but the moments that make up the destiny- the fact that Arthur snores, or teaching Arthur how to cook, or a lively debate about some bad legislation.

She still dreams about her father sometimes and now has more menacing dreams about Nimueh or something awful happening to Arthur. She's been living with Arthur for about three months when she has one of those, startling awake. Arthur's not in the bed, which is not uncommon these days. Merlin's slowly learning that while Arthur loves to sleep, it can actually be very difficult to get her into bed. (Getting her out of bed is just as difficult.) She extracts herself from the covers, making her way to Arthur's office, a small room just off of the bedroom.

Arthur's sitting at her desk, hunched over a large stack of papers. She's not making any progress, but continues to stare. It's a charming picture, with Arthur still in her suit and her hair in a messy plait that Merlin gave her earlier that evening. She knows that Arthur's trying to help build a better tomorrow, but sometimes it's best to acknowledge that tomorrow is, well, tomorrow.

"Any chance I can convince you to bring your work to bed?" Merlin asks. "It's very late, and you're going to wake me up when you come to bed."

"I can just sleep in the guest roo-"

"Nonsense." Merlin more or less places herself in Arthur's lap. 

"This isn't encouraging me to leave."

She leans in and kisses Arthur, then slides off of her lap, encouraging Arthur to follow her standing. It's very effective, and a few moments later, she's helping Arthur shrug out of her suit jacket.

"You should at least change into more comfortable clothes to do work at night."

"Maybe you'll have to find something to do to encourage me." Arthur nips her bottom lip and then lifts Merlin slightly off the ground, carrying her back to the bedroom. They both laugh all the way to the room, until the sound is muffled by a closing door.

The fact is, and Merlin copes with this as best as she can, the future cannot do away with the hurt and the pain from the past. Sometimes she looks over at Arthur and wonders that if Arthur wasn't here, her father would still be around, with his kind eyes and warmth. She's glad for the memories she has, if that's all she'll have. Besides, she cannot imagine a world without Arthur in it, and she cannot imagine anything but the future she's building. That's enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for joining me for this adventure, readers. Many thanks, again, to Evi for the beautiful artwork. <3 Everything about this piece was a great experience for me and I hope you loved it too.


End file.
